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bear by san

March 2017



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bear by san

you can hold her hand and show her how you cry


Guys, I can't keep up on that comment thread. I'm sorry.

I am reading them all, but they're coming in fastr than I can answer.

Thank you. All.

Just thanks.


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Thanks right back... for trusting us, and in doing so letting me (and I guess a few others too) let something out we needed to let out.

That's perfectly reasonable. Take care.
No, thank you, for that beautiful, brave piece of writing.

You turn trauma into art, which is the only true alchemy.
no worries. 'swhat we're here for.

And buying your books. Which do you recommend next after reading the Jenny Casey Trilogy?
Hmity. Did you like them? Do you like fantasy?
I've been thinking off and on all morning about your excellent-in-so-many-ways post, and seeing this post about too many responses, will just leave you with my thanks and appreciation. No need to respond.
They're all such *Good* comments.

And they all deserve a thoughtful response.

And I have to go cut 15K out of a book now. :-P
.... I haven't been able to read the entire post yet.... But my best friend has suggested I wait until I'm home and call her and we can read it together.

Because, my dear, I don't believe my life either. And it sounds like in many of the same ways as you.
*moral support*

Really... well, that's all. Just that.
Just sent you e-mail about it. Don't feel like you need to respond. Just . . . thank you.
I confess I didn't comment last night because I had no words. I struggle to find the words even now.

You are not alone. And we will get through, however we can, helping each other along the way when we stumble.

You rock, lady.
You already said what I needed to hear. I think that might be true for a lot of us. No need to answer, you already did. Thank you.
Your post is still resonating with me. People always comment about the evils of the internet, but your post, and those with that richness that I have seen on my flist, makes it a glorious place imho.
And thank you.

An example of something I said once -- a lot of new writers are trying to tell stories before they've lived enough to have stories to tell.
I didn't say it there, but... thanks for the trust in sharing. It's humbing and honoring.

[on a prosaic aside: if you ever want a possibly-normal foil, I volunteer. :-) ]
I hear you. I didn't reply because you already had 200 plus comments by the time I got to it.

I forget if you read my book or not... If not, I'm torn between saying, "You might really like it," and "Maybe you should avoid it." But I left out most of the dealing with trauma many years later, because it would have been a book of its own. It's all about the trauma, and just snippets of aftermath.

One thing I've been wondering recently is whether I got over some aspects of PTSD too well. I mean, it's no good to be diving under desks every time a car backfires. I'm glad I don't do that any more. But what if it really is a gunshot? I used to have amazing fight-or-flight reflexes, and there's really no way to test whether they'd emerge if there ever was a real emergency, or whether I killed them in the interests behaving appropriately for the sort of life that I lead now.

I suppose that's a very PTSD thing to worry about, though.
It really is.

I mean to read your book. I really do. But...

*helpless gesture*

You are right when you say one doesn't have to be brave to have been through All That Sort of Shit.

The brave things are deciding to do your best to have a real life with something like contentment, and talking and writing about what you've been through, so that other people don't have to cower in shame and think it's just them who's been through All That Sort of Shit. The more people who find the strength to share their journey, trainwrecks and all, the more people may find the hope and strength to try and shape their lives into something they can be happy with.

No, no, no, thank you! It gave me the strength to make the final (if there is such a thing) edits to my VP submission. Now, if only my wife would put down frigging Sclazi's Ghost Brigades, she'd be able to read it for me. Grrrr! Scalzi!
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