Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Nothing but a Forgotten Dream

I stumbled across something very interesting the other day—well, I had somewhat of a desire to search for it, and so I guess it was more intentional than coincidental. But, that’s just all mindless details.

When I was 18, my arrogance for my own writing abilities far exceeded its true potential. I’m not very confident about how or what I write anymore (and rightly so, though this humble realization came with many painful awakenings), but at the time, I thought my writing could conquer the world. Actually, I was confident it would.

And so, at 18, I attempted to write my first novel. Well, started I should say, or tried to start. The idea came after my grandfather died, a rather remarkable man whose story was never shared, a story I barely knew myself. And so, a seed was planted in my mind, which soon grew to a young idea, and eventually into a sturdy beginning to a novel that I was certain would become a classic. (Arrogant, I know.)

Well, ladies and gentlemen, I found it. I found the first and last chapters to this “award-winning” novel that I began when my life was just beginning. And although I must admit that my writing has improved in many ways since I was a child, (as apparent from the first posts on this blogs, and silly poems such as this one that I wrote as a kid), I must say that I was rather impressed with what I had to say. In fact, I was actually inspired…inspired to finish telling this untold and startling story.

I will admit that no one has yet to read it, and so, my satisfaction and motivation to pursue it, may actually be nothing but blindness and ignorance towards its stupidity. I’d share it with all of you on this blog (since it’s really not that much), or even explain the plot line (though it is rather undeveloped), but with my luck, some aspiring writer out there will find a publisher, expand on my “brilliant” idea, write a book, and show up on the New York Times Bestselling list, leaving me with nothing but this blog.

If you’re really that interested though, maybe I’ll tell you, someday—maybe. Probably not; depends who you are. But, if any publishers out there would like to take a 21 year-old’s 18 year old self’s story idea and make it into a real book, you know where to find me…or find my blog at least. I would definitely love to show it to you, as undeveloped as it may be.

But anyways, why am I telling you all of this? Because somewhere along the road of enlightenment I discovered a broken dream I forgot about long ago. And though that aspiration is now nothing more than a memory, I must say that rediscovering the first steps you made long ago remind you of how you got to where you are. Besides, I like re-reading things I've written, even if it is cringing and unbearable. It shows how much your writing has matured, how much you have grown, and how much life has changed.

And even if I never finish writing that book, or whatever it would've turned out to be, I'm glad it's no longer a forgotten dream, but rather an old dream replaced by different ones.

Monday, August 8, 2011

Fishy Business

I have a friend who occasionally likes to call me a "shark" because of the blunt, yet truthful, comments I tend to make. Well, if I am a shark, then that would explain why I can smell fish around me when they screw up...

And today, I smell something fishy.

So, please allow the blunt shark to give you "sneaky" individuals some sound advice so that your fishy smell can sneak off my radar:
  1. Learn how to swim...correctly: If you're going to lie to me, or to anyone else for that matter, at least lie right. When you get caught up in your own net of lies, well, lets just say you're not the fastest fish in the sea.
  2. Don't fall for the fish bait: There aren't just sharks in the sea, there are fishermen too. So, beware the traps that people set up for you, because when you're too dumb to realize that you've just been caught, you're pretty much dead meat...or dead seafood. That's how my dad caught these. Well, the fishermen caught them; I think he just watched and attempted to help. (Don't tell him I said that.)
  3. "Fish are friends, not food:" Unless, of course, your friends rat you out. Then they might as well be food to all the other sharks out there.
  4. SWERVE!: Stuck in a pickle? Or in this case, an oyster....? Own up to it and admit your mistake.
Now, there's a very logical way for all you fish to avoid being eaten alive or served on a platter at Red Lobster instead of following these not so helpful tips: BE TRUTHFUL from the very beginning. There's no reason for fishy business if you tell the truth from the start. I promise, it's not that hard, and a lot less painful for everyone. And why would you want to be a fish when you can be a person? Just saying.

Stop trying to swim a fast one on everyone for such stupid reasons. I mean, hey, if you can avoid being a fish, then there's no reason to release the sharks.

Friday, August 5, 2011

The Sinful Art of Criticism; The Blessed Chance to Critique

Criticism is good for the soul. I have and will always support this theory. How, may I ask, do you ever wish to improve yourself, your situation, or your expenditures without seeking advice or the opinions of others? It takes a prideful fool to condemn the advice and opinions of his peers, and therefore, I urge us all (including myself) to embrace constructive criticism for all the glorious and positive influence it may have.

But often times, people take things a little too far. Sometimes we must beware the sinful art of criticism and remember that giving your opinion is merely a blessed chance to critique. Contradictory? Well, please indulge me a little and allow me to explain.

Some of you may already be associating this post to my previous one on this blog, and though they are somewhat unconnected, I must say that the reactions and events that have occurred within the past few weeks, related and unrelated to Mr. Crook and my cousin, have driven me to discuss the matter at hand. In fact, people's reactions to what Mr. Crook had to say with such crude language disgusted me as much as Mr. Crook himself. I understand that I too could not hold in my frustration towards such an insecure and ignorant man...but I would never bring myself down to his level through childish means. Much has changed in the past month, and the more my eyes are opened and my ears widened to see how people critique and hear the diction they choose, the more I find propriety and common courtesy breached in inappropriate manners when expressing opinions. I, in no way, am wise enough to offer sound advice on how to criticize. However, my conscience does feel obliged to warn the few interested enough to listen.

Criticism, in many ways, is a blessed privilege, a great opportunity, and an inspiring process to agree or disagree with a friend or stranger, both personally or professionally. In my opinion, there are only a few ways to abuse this blessing and transform it into a sinful art: blatantly disregarding human emotions, speaking from ignorance and immaturity, and using foul language as an act of anger and frustration. Diction seems to be my prime concern, as I've grown to loathe people who abuse the English language with distasteful, foul four letter words, and degrade their opinions to nothing more than an emotional, uneducated rant.

Throughout my 21 years of observation, I've sadly found that this applies to my friends, my acquaintances, my critics, and occasionally even myself. And though I never encourage anyone to act or speak merely out of emotion, here is my small angry rant: cursing to make your voice heard is self-destructive. To those of you who cursed Michael Crook, to those of you who curse each other, to those of you who use f***, b****, sh** and other distasteful slang words to express yourself and your opinions, I ask you to reconsider your word choices. Life is not defined by these words, but rather, your opinions and your voice will be defined to a status unworthy of listening to.

Now, I completely understand that discussing such a sensitive topic instantly puts me in the line of fire for people to criticize me--and if grasping the opportunity to form a few minds forces other minds to condemn mine, than so be it. All I ask is that you do so without cussing up a storm, because although I may be able to navigate through troubled waters, you'll only be proving my point.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Michael Crook: Not That Clever


Dear Mr. Crook,


I do not believe in vengeance.


On the contrary, I find it to be a sad outburst of frustration and anger from a weak man's own misery. Therefore, I do not plan to seek revenge upon you through this post. I do not wish to curse you for the foolish and childish things you have said about my cousin. I do not desire to taint my own elegance and poise by lowering myself to fight you on the subject (though I'd probably win).


No. If I were to do so, I would do nothing but destroy my own credibility and further hinder yours. And if you have any type of journalistic integrity, which I secretly pray you do, then you would know that credibility and respect from both your peers and your readers is essential to creating a well-praised and worthy piece of writing. I have no desire to do such a thing. If you wish to destroy yours, however, that is between you and your pen.

So Mr. Crook, as a fellow blogger, I would like to offer you a few pieces of advice to better your own understanding of the ethical and moral boundaries of the blogosphere. Despite my own hurtful feelings towards your specific post about my cousin, I must say that I am a little disappointed in your professional writing and blogging etiquette in order to express your opinions on the matter. In fact, I am a little curious to inquire whether or not you have had any professional education at all? I mean, I am in no position to boast about my own writing--I am nothing but a student apprenticing my way through life, the blogsophere, and the written word. However, your specific diction and lack of sympathy has sparked my curiosity about your upbringing.

So, to help you with your future blog posts and perhaps to boost your future popularity, please allow me to provide you with some tips to help you become a more likable character and a more creative writer.


First, I must say that your carefully chosen word choices show very little understanding of the English language. Your diction is not well-suited to one that has mastered English. No. Sadly, it seems to be a poor attempt to enhance your writing voice with the use of flowery and big words, in order to sound credible. You chose words such as "stupid," awkward," and "punk," to describe your feelings and reaction to this specific situation. And so, here is my first tip: some words naturally have a negative connotation--avoid using them unless you want to annoy, discourage and agitate your reader.


Now, if you purposely chose those words for their negative connotation, I must say that I am a little disappointed that those were the choices you settled upon. I'm sure with proper guidance you can learn to enhance your vocabulary in a mature manner that will best give you the ability to express how you feel. I'll pray that that wisdom will shed upon you somehow.


Which brings me to my next tip: avoid cliches and be creative. Fail to do so and it exposes the weakness in your writing. Good writing, good blog writing is about finding interesting and unorthodox analogies and metaphors that entice your readers. Don't try to feed them something they've already had before. Remember what I said about enhancing your vocabulary? It's a necessity for every writer, including myself. That alone can help you avoid cliches and unoriginal analogies that you so often use.


Now, if you have ever studied psychology (which I doubt you have), people such as yourself, who seek negative outlets to express their own "opinions," usually do so because their deepest insecurities push them to seek attention. Cliche alert: ever heard of the saying, "all press is good press," including the poor, bad and ugly? Well, when someone's absurd behavior is driven by their inner-most insecurities, they tend to lash out in the oddest and most immature fashions. In fact, that's why children often seek attention by being "bad." Mr. Crook, in no way did I call you a child, but I'll just use your words instead: kids don't usually act out too much, "except maybe for good ol' boys, if you catch my drift."


So, here's a tip: if you would like to feed your own insecurities, by all means continue to pursue vain and cynical writing pursuits. If, however, you would like to better yourself, perhaps it's time to discover the reasons as to why you are the way you are, and why you write the things you do...?


As I said, I am not here to attack you in any malicious way. You have every right to voice your opinion, and I support people doing so with every "breath" of my heart. Keep in mind, however, that there may be someone out there with a much stronger and louder voice than you do. And so, with every "breath" of my heart, I do intend to shout a little to make sure that you can hear me through cyberspace, wherever you and your computer seem to hide. Please forgive me, however, if you hear a little ringing in your ears--my voice tends to do that to people sometimes. Trust me when I say, time will help the ringing stop.


But with any blog or any piece of writing, you will never hear just one voice. No, no. Be prepared to hear many. In case you haven't noticed (which I doubt you have considering your poor investigative techniques), my cousin has a new Facebook fan page entitled, "Rest in Peace Joe Meram" with over 2,200 likes in only 48 hours. With all professional journalistic integrity, I discovered that you have a Facebook fan page entitled, "I hate Michael Crook" with 2,200 likes over a period of God knows how long. Huh. Interesting, to say the least. Perhaps we should go back to our psychological discussion about attention-seeking? But alas, I'll resist.


You see, no one really likes a crook--that's why most end up dying alone in jail cells, not to say that you are one, Mr. Crook. But, there's no easy way to say this: crooks just usually are "not that bright" (your words, not mine).


But, unlike you, I would never judge another human being or their intentions. Though you have seemed to harshly judge my cousin by "arrogantly ignoring common sense" (once again: your words, not mine), I will not do the same for you.


In fact, I encourage no one to do that towards you. Though your words stabbed through my very soul, I only wish you the best and choose to ignore your twisted cries for help by giving you wrongful attention. I ask everyone to refrain giving you that attention, because feeding a passion only makes it burn stronger. That is why I write to help you as you drown in your own misery by offering you advice. I can only hope you take it. I do, Mr. Crook, only wish the best for you.



And so, I leave with you this. I would love one day to stumble upon a fan page that says "I love Michael Crook." However, I can't see that happening in the near future unless you can abide by this last tip: re-read before you post. That's where there's editors in this world. Hey, we all make mistakes, that's why there's erasers on pencils--and so, I'll forgive you for your bitter rant towards a perfect stranger. Just remember, even Charles Dickens made Scrooge remorseful for the things he said and did...it just took him the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come to realize that remorse.


Consider me your ghost, Mr. Scrooge, I mean, Mr. Crook. Consider me your Ghost of Blogging Yet to Come.


With much love and many prayers for your improvement in writing,
Joe Meram's Proud Cousin,

Miss Meram




I ask, Mr. Crook, and others reading this post, that you respect the privacy and sorrow that has filled Joe's family and friends. He will always be loved, cherished and remembered as a smiling young man who lived life with passion.

Please pray for Joe, for all those that his death has affected, for Mr. Crook and other harsh critics, and for all souls in Purgatory.



Hail Mary, full of Grace...

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Nice Try

Well, my self-control to abide by my promise to swear off writing in this blog could not constrain my temptations. I guess it was a "nice try," a nice pathetic attempt to suffice old feelings of a harsh reality that I created for myself.

I never thought my own doubts, troubles, and fears would cause a commotion in the dark forest I was trying to walk alone in. I never thought my footsteps alone would awaken the creatures in the dark, ready to block my path and force me to retreat and re-read the warning signs.

Embarrassment, stupidity, anger, and resentment are making me re-trace my steps and walk backwards to the fork in the road, to see once and for all, where the truth really lies. And if the forest's loving creatures block my way to keep me from walking into the darkness, perhaps I'll walk out into to the sunlight for them, and over time, "for them" will be for me. God's loving creatures deserve to be admired in all their beauty and glory, glimmering within the sunlight.

And if, for whatever reason, the sun starts to blind me and the dark shades of the forest entice me, I'll still remain in the sun for them, so that they can experience life in all it's greatness. I'll just wear sunglasses.