LEAVING Nemo (Nobody)

Author Dale Eldon

"I have a very strong feeling that the opposite of love is not hate - it's apathy. It's not giving a damn."~Leo Buscaglia

More and more people are becoming apathetic. For some, they just don’t see a reason to care. For others it’s a survival mechanism. By not caring they can live a happy life which is an oxymoron. They care only to live in bliss even at the sacrifice of things they care about.

Relationships, the world around them, anything that threatens their bliss. And when things happen where they might have to care, and understand, they crawl back inside of their hole. They push harder and harder to become a nobody, or as it is in Latin, a nemo.

It’s easier to move on and be happy when you don’t have to care about anything. The more you limit your emotions, the more you just exist without empathy or sympathy, the better your life is; well from this perspective.

But this is the epidemic of our modern society. Instead of reaching for God, or leaning on those who care about them, they work on not caring themselves. Which means they end up losing feeling for those or things they love.

Maybe it’s because I’m a writer, but then again I've always cared. Maybe it’s because I've always been a writer even before I picked up a pen. What I do know is that I care too much for those who do not. They’re incapable of understanding because they don’t care to. They’re unwilling to care about my perspective. And that’s okay, but to me apathy is death.

As a writer I care about a lot of things. I look at them as a child would. I care about people I love even when they become apathetic. I care about those I use to hate because really they’re only a version of me if I went down a different path. To be apathetic to them would mean I’d deserve the same in return. I don’t. If people don’t want to care, then that’s their problem. I can’t make their lives better for them, they have to do that. They’re adults, they have to want it. For those who claim that I have helped them, I couldn't have done so without their willingness. And they’re some of the best people I know.

I have a huge amount of respect and love for those who can pull themselves up, and carry on and do so with love and passion. Those very people I hold a level of understanding for more than they will ever realize; why? Because I care. Because I’m not apathetic. If I was I wouldn't be an important factor of their lives, and rightfully so.

I don’t want to be a nobody. My name’s not Nemo. And let me tell you apathetics out there something, without the few people who care about me, I’d be nothing. Which would make me a nobody. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to name call here, but look at it this way, if you don’t care about anything or anyone, then who are you? Why should you matter? What’s the point to anything in your life? Just think about it. I’d rather see people wake up and become a somebody than stay the way they are. People have the chance to shine; some of the worse have the brightest center. They just need to care.

And this isn't only the worse thing in the world, which it is, it’s even worse for us writers. We need to care. We need to love. I can write a book from the POV of a monster human or not, go so dark it makes your stomach churn, but that doesn't mean I don’t care. The reason I can write dark stories is because I do care. I recognize that they’re dark. If I didn't care then it wouldn't matter if they’re dark or not.

Love. Passion. Do it and repeat. Be fulfilled. Don’t be empty, don’t be a nobody. And if you are a nobody, if there's a faint hint of care in your heart, then do something about it. We can't change the world, but we can change ourselves.

In Honor of Rick Hautala, Please Share

Do not buy these books in lieu of donations. The best way to help is to donate directly to Holly Newstein Hautala (see Christopher Golden's post). That said, Joe McKinney and I were touched by Rick Hautala's support of our recent ghost stories, INHERITANCE and SUNFALL MANOR. This is just our little way of paying that support back. Special thanks to the additional stakeholders in these titles for donating their profits for April: Charles Day, Eric Shapiro, Mark Scioneaux, Robert Shane Wilson, and Jennifer Wilson, and everyone at Evil Jester Press and Nightscape Press. Without their generosity, we couldn't do this.

Joe Mckinney's INHERITANCE

Pete Giglio's SUNFALL MANOR


A few words from Dale Eldon:

No one should ever be left to suffer alone the loss of someone they love. There should always be support for those left behind, it's the hardest for the survivors. When I heard of Rick's death, I wanted to give my repsects online along side fellow scribes. But when I heard about Holly in need of financial help, I knew that anyone willing to share this, should.

I don't care what anyone believes, whether you be a Christian or an atheist, helping those in need especially those left behind is perhaps one of the best things we can do for  each other. As a Christian I belive we're our brothers/sisters keeper, but this belief isn't limited to my faith. It shines on in people from all walks of life. The loss of someone special is hard enough, that should be the only challenege to live with. I'd hope if the situation were reversed, and I left behind a wife that people would do the same.

I hope if you feel led that you will help Holly in her time of need. She has more on her plate than she should, as I'm sure many of you would agree or have went through this before.

If you don't have the money to donate, or just not fond of people asking you for donations ( I'm not unless it's a good cause, which this is) then please share this post, share the links, and spread the word.

Peace be with Rick's wife, family, and friends. His books will live on for his fans who grew up on him and for those who will discover him through us. I have no doubt his loved ones will do him proud as they push forward. That's what I focus on when dealing with a loss, making them proud. It helps.

 

 

Inspiration After Death

In the last few days, I have lost my grandmother. It was her time and she was ready to go. It was so hard because she was one of the loveliest people you could ever meet. The day she passed, I was at home trying to sleep. I woke up after a few hours of sleep, but couldn't go back. I was about to crack open a book when my dad knocked on my door to give me the news. Immediately I said take me to the hospital. His reaction, "why?". Even after explaining to him that I wanted to be there for my mother he still couldn't understand.

Everyone has their point of view on death, but in mine I believe when someone passes on, you are there for those who are deeply effected. Not to mention, that is what my grandmother would have wanted. If nothing else, she inspires to be there for others, at least others who need it the most.

Although grandma is gone, and she is in a place of no more pain or sorrow, her legacy will always live on in one way or another. She was the kind of person who could inspire a person to be better when they couldn't have done so on their own. Even after death. She was also so happy for me when she heard that I will soon be a published author thanks to a great friend of mine giving me an opportunity. My stories wouldn't be her cup of tea, but she was still so proud of me. Her name will be at the top on my dedication in my first published book.

She continues to inspire me. As she was on her death bed, I couldn't but think about someone else who passed a couple of years ago. This someone made some choices that has deeply hurt the family. And when he moved on, it was like a dark cloud passed over and sunlight returned. Well in my mind, I was thinking what if this was a story? Now I have a supernatural love story in my outlines for future stories, and one with a happy ending.

My grandmother in my opinion, is one of the biggest contributors of good genes in the family when it comes to kindness. For my side of the family, I always looked at her as the heart of the family.

In the inspiration that continues, my grandmother will always encourage me, even though I know she is completely gone from this world. Her ideals, her grace, and her belief in me as a person, and writer.

I told her before I left the ICU room, I would see her later. Though I couldn't keep that promise here on Earth, I will make good on it someday. And until then, carve out some legacy of my own.

In loving memory of Joan (pronounced Jo-Ann) Ford

Words, Love, and the Pursuit of Happiness

By Dale Eldon

 Authors and the writing that spawns to life from their fingertips are connected. Every author has a different take on how it works, but from my point of view, the author and the muse are simpatico.


The core element for good writing has to come from happiness. In order for the right words to appear, the love has to be at the center of the core.


In order for any decent writing to come from me, the muse and I have to be in sync. It is impossible for her and I to coexist if we are not in harmony. The life we share is symbiotic. Each needing the other to become more then we would be apart. A lot like a good marriage. The problem here, is that the muse is a part of my mind. Sure she gets fired up over external inspirations, but she is basically an alter ego. So when I am in a slump, usually so is she. We are that connected. No matter how much I try to be happy, or even if I am in a decent mood it just isn’t the same as being happy naturally. The muse craves the same things that I do. Love.


I love my family. I love my friends. But so often I feel like a drifter in the middle of the ocean. I am sprawled out in a life raft looking through pictures of better times as my body slowly dies of dehydration. Here I am surrounded by water, and I can’t drink any of it. That is how my life feels. I have plenty of reasons to be happy, but I still cannot have these reasons to embrace. They are like the water. I can see them, but I cannot touch them.


My muse withers with me. In symbiotic relationship, we need each other to survive. We are not just compatible, if that were the case, then we could leave the other and no damage would be done. We would just seek out a new partner. But like soul mates, we hinge on the other without draining ourselves. Together we are a force. The muse, however, cannot pull me out of the slump. As strong willed as she is, my emotions ultimately control her.


Its strange, a lot of the time I don’t realize just how far out in the vast aquatic desert I have drifted. The longer I am stranded, the worst my mental condition becomes. The brain parasite called, “self pity” slowly eats away at any hope of happiness. It then continues to make me jaded, and diminishes my zest for the wonders of life. The once happy-go-lucky me is now becoming an empty shell for this parasite to live.


As much as I may have going for me (as I have been told by supporters), I am still drifting in this raft. From time to time I will see a search and rescue chopper fly overhead, but usually they don’t see me. I try to get their attention, but it is useless. Then when all hope is lost I see an angel. So far every time an angel appears to me, she is only around for a short time. And every time she gives me a little strength to push on. And again, an angel has appeared to me. The purest to visit yet, and again I feel my soul being rejuvenated. There is never a guarantee if the angel will stick around. There are so many factors that have to work for her to. But this angel is different than the others. She is extra special. Her grace makes me forget the raft, the dehydration, the self-pity; suddenly I am reforged.


I don’t know how long this angel will stay with me. What I do know is, for every moment I have with her, I am that much more thankful for. Somehow this beautiful creation of God has opened something up in my mind that I cannot open on my own. Not even my muse can reach this area. My dear angel who doesn’t have to try, she is a natural at bringing me back to life. And when I am in her presence I the aquatic desert become a tropical paradise.


So, what have I learned? How have I changed?


I have learned that no matter how much I work on bettering myself, that I will never be the man I want or need to be on my own. I need my angel. Just like my muse, I need that simpatico relationship. For I alone cannot live without her. One person cannot live in a symbiotic relationship. It is impossible. Perhaps angels are suppose to come and go until one decides to stay. Maybe this angel is the one. Maybe not. Regardless, I am thankful for her. Even if she only here to wake me up and show me this side of life.


It is easy to forget who we are as depression eats away at our soul. And like any good parasite the self-pity is inconspicuous as it slowly destroys us. The words cannot flow without love, and without love there is not happiness.


For some writers this darkness works for them. And I am glad that they have that as a muse. But for a lot of us we need that love. It can appear in many forms. I talk of my angel who is a beautiful woman from another country with view point that is refreshing, and creative. She can child like, but still be adult. She is intelligent, and graceful. This someone I would love to get to know more, and spend as much time with her as God will allow. That for me is the love. I have a beautiful daughter who also inspires me, though at this point I am in a position where I can’t be there for her. And though she the most important thing in my life, I need to be able to be apart of hers. And I cannot do that in this raft.


A lot of us have our own problems. No one has a monopoly on suffering. With that said pain is something that unites us. The despair that becomes the bane of our existence, is with most writers. Just because we may have a different way of looking at life, doesn’t limit our despair. In a lot of ways it increases it. A lot of writers become more sensitive to the world around them, they have to if they want their characters to come life. Even if the author is writing a non-fiction title, they can get so wrapped up in a person that they are writing about that they can feel their pain. Writers are conduits of emotions, ideas, and philosophies. We absorb mindsets that we may not even agree with, we take in the world of others, understanding their world better then they might themselves.


It is important to find that love. To find that ballast. Maybe even several loves. Like children, spouse, and other family, God; just like a tanker having more than one anchor to hold it in place. Love is the ballast that keeps us steady, it is what drives us, and completes us. Even if we are without what we need most, we need to keep our eyes on it at all times.