Fuck The Pain Away

How's that for a title? It made you think, huh? Well it just so happens to be a song, like most blog titles of mine. So I am running with it and the devil. Sometimes, even Lois Lane likes it on the raunchy side. Here's a link to the song if you want to hear it for yourself.

Seriously how can a closet Barry Manilow fan, a Fanilow if you will, enjoy such crap music like that? I have no clue. And it's annoying as hell if you actually listen to the whole song.

Anyway, that song was the first thing to come to mind when I sat down to write this bad news, good news post. (Skip to the 10th paragraph of this post if you want to avoid my Debbie Downer crap and get to the good stuff.) I am not in pain, nor am I currently.... a-hem...fucking.

January 14th, I was having a craptastic day. I just read that Chelsea Handler is writing another book. I like her, don't get me wrong, but what she described, sounded way too much like my manuscript. The manuscript I wrote, rewrote, and lost half of on a computer problem, recreated, then rewrote again. Guess what? I am in another round of rewrites.

Obviously I have been dealing with self-doubt issues. Not pretty, but real. And you guys who have been reading Home Fires over three years, knows, you can't make this shit up, it's all real. What gripes me is she is already out there. People already know her, and will buy her book. My first thought was everyone will think of me as a copycat... except for you guys.

I still can't find an agent. My stats on this site have dropped along with my regular daily posts. Which brought more doubt. Seriously, if people don't want to read this shit for free, who is going to buy a book written by me?

I have a jealous side too that I wish didn't exist. Did you know that about me? It's true and ugly and I hate it, so I am trying to wish it away. Mr. Lane never reads anything I write. One day, I "caught" him reading a Chelsea Handler book that a blogger sent to me. He was smiling as he read.

Ridiculous as it sounds, it felt like the man was cheating on me. I literally felt sick inside of my stomach and wanted to cry. He still hasn't read the tribute I wrote for his mother, which was published in a book over a year ago. The book sits covered in dust upon a shelf in our bedroom. He still won't help me proof read the manuscript, or offer input. And any time a freelance story of mine is printed in a newspaper, they send me a copy, and he turns directly to the classified section, never reading my contribution.

I guess it would be like being married to a plumber and calling out RotoRooter while he was standing right there. Does that even make sense? In my head it did. But like I said, there is good news, and I am trying with every inch of my heart and soul to lose these stupid feelings and focus on the good.

So good came wrapped up in a handsome comedian. ANT, who was on The Tonight Show last night doing a skit. He was a judge on Last Comic Standing, is on Celebrity Fit Club and has toured the country doing stand-up, currently in Tahoe with Paula Poundstone... read my shit. And he didn't think it was shitty. On his blog he has been talking about the laws of attraction. Seeking out what you really want in life. I feel like I have always lived by those standards, and accepted his 30 day challenge happily. One of his posts made me feel like, this man is opening himself up to random anyones and I am going to shoot for the moon. As a judge on Last Comic Standing, I've seen how fair and accurate he is to people. I thought, I've got nothing to loose. Worst he can do is say "It needs work" or "sorry I just don't have time to read it" but he didn't.

I sent him an email asking if he would read a few chapters of my manuscript. He emailed me back right away saying he would "love to" and would be "honored". Seriously, I thought, was this man just buttering my buns or what? Fuck it, I love buttery buns, and I hit send.

Oh no, he didn't just send an email giving me a little pat to my stupid head, he posted on all four of his websites, something that caused my doubt and jealousy to step back and trust in myself. Read what he said here scroll to the top of the page.

I've never told Mr. Lane in detail how I feel about his lack of enthusiasm for my love of writing. I never had the balls, I guess. Plus you all know that in love you aren't going to get everything perfect, and that little shit of mine is pretty damn close.

So, after seeing that post, and all of the comments his readers gave, I felt like a real jackhole for even thinking the way I had hours before. This is not about my old man. It's about me. And you guys, my best blogging buddies in the whole wide world, always had faith in me. Which I really should have trusted. This was the moment the clouds parted and the hand of God reached down upon me and biffed the shit out of my head.

I rode the high for a solid week and wrote like the wind. I was back in the saddle again. And when I was done with my writing roll, you bet your sweet ass I threw that man of mine onto our queen sized mattress and made him ride this reading rainbow.

Have a great weekend everyone!