Posts Tagged ‘ideas’

It’s Friday again, so you know what that means. It’s #FirstLineFriday!

So if you don’t know what #FirstLineFriday is, let me explain. On Fridays, you:

  • Create a post on your blog entitled #FirstLineFriday, hashtag and all.
  • Explain the rules like I’m doing now.
  • Post the first one or two lines of a potential story, a story-in-progress, or a completed or published work.
  • Ask your readers for feedback, and urge them to try #FirstLineFriday on their own blogs (tagging is encouraged but not necessary).

This week’s entry is from a story I had earlier this week. As usual, it’s creepy and weird, which is standard Rami Ungar. Anyway, enjoy:

The locals say that the hospital, which was built about forty miles from where the government tested a couple nuclear bombs, absorbed some radiation in its bricks during construction, and that’s why so many horrible things happened in the children’s ward. My daddy disagreed; he said that evil got root in there, and then the evil festered.

Ooo-ooo-ooo!

So what did you guys think? Pretty catchy? Scary? Any errors? Let’s discuss in the comments below.

And while you’re at it, why not try #FirstLineFriday on your own blog? It’s eas, it’s fun, and for authors it’s great practice working with different openings. I’m not going to tag anyone this week (unless you want to do this, so consider yourself tagged). Hey, occasionally I need occasionally I need a break from looking through my list of followers and seeing who I haven’t tortured yet.

And if you haven’t heard already, my five year blogging anniversary is coming up, so click here to learn about how you can participate in a Q&A with yours truly, and enter for a chance to get an autographed copy of one of my books. Trust me, you do not want to miss out on that.

That’s all for now, my Followers of Fear. I’m going to try to get a ton of editing and whatnot done this weekend. And if you want to ask me any questions for my five-year blogging anniversary on August 2nd, click here for details on that.

Have a good weekend, everybody.

Big news, my Followers of Fear! On August 2nd, I will have reached five years of blogging! Yeah, five years. This blog (and the wonderful people who follow it, thank you very much for sticking with me through thick and thin) has been with me through four years of college, numerous articles on Self-Published Authors Helping Other Authors, two visits to Europe, one-and-a-half internships, a very long period of unemployment, four published books (plus three at various stages of the editing/compilation process), too many short stories to count, a couple of which were published in some magazines and two anthologies, and a weird period of my life where I hunted down a serial killer while consulting with and developing an unusual relationship with another serial killer.

Oh wait, that’s the plot of Silence of the Lambs. Never mind.

Anyway, in honor of the big day, I will be doing a few things differently (and I don’t mean buying myself a cake in honor of the day, though that might happen as well). For one, I will be doing a Q&A, with questions provided by you, the readers. If there are any burning questions you’ve wanted to ask me, you can ask those in the comments up until July 31st, and I will answer them.

However, if you ask me to tell you where I live, or if I will marry you, I will have to decline on both counts. Sorry obsessives, I don’t want to end up in a real life version of Misery or Yandere Simulator.

Also, if you want to know what scares me, I’ll tell you right now: the Alvin and the Chipmunks cartoon from the 1980’s. I’m pretty sure the chipmunks from that show are actually the result of a strange genetic mutation, either from nuclear fallout or genetic engineering, and the males in that species all have some deformity in their middles that prevent them from wearing anything but long muumuus. Why else do the Chipettes get actual clothes but the title characters don’t?

I’m also terrified of large spiders. Tiny ones, I can deal with. However, if I can make out individual features on its face or it looks like it could easily stretch across the palm of my hand, I will scream like a little girl. It’s happened before.

I also want to hear feedback from you, dear readers. What do you think I’m doing right as a writer and a blogger? Anything I can improve upon? What posts do you prefer from me? Tell me in the comments below, so I can make Rami Ungar the Writer an even better blog.

Another reason to look forward to the big day, I’m going to be doing a giveaway on August 2nd in honor of the big occasion. I will be giving away an autographed copy one of my books (your choice of which one), that I will send to the winner after winning. I’ll give the full details on the day of the anniversary, so if you want to participate, check in on August 2nd. I’ll announce the winner in a subsequent blog post.

Oh, and one more note: I’ve got a couple of interviews coming up. One is with a blog I discovered through my friend Joleene Naylor, who will be releasing an interview soon. The other is actually a podcast. I’ll be rejoining my friend and colleague Dellani Oakes on her podcast, Red River Online Radio (links to follow soon) to talk books, authors, and maybe reading an excerpt from Video Rage. Get excited!

Alright, gotta go. I’m looking forward to hearing your questions and feedback, and I’m especially looking forward to celebrating this big milestone with you. Let’s have a good time on the second, shall we?

Until next time, my Followers of Fear!

It’s Friday again, so you know what that means. It’s #FirstLineFriday!

Now if you don’t know what #FirstLineFriday is, let me explain the rules. On Fridays, you:

  1. Create a post on your blog entitled #FirstLineFriday, hashtag and all.
  2. Explain the rules like I’m doing now.
  3. Post the first one or two lines of a potential story, a story-in-progress, or a completed or published work.
  4. Ask your readers for feedback, and encourage them to try #FirstLineFriday on their own blogs (tagging is encouraged but not necessary).

As I said in my last post, I’ve been having a lot of great ideas for stories. And on Monday, I had this rather strange and unique idea for a novel, inspired by Japanese mythology and culture (one of my best sources of ideas, by the way), and has an interesting structure to it that would be unusual and fun to write. Obviously, I can’t go into more details without giving away the plot (and I hate to give that sort of thing away). But I can hopefully give you a very good opening for this story, while maybe adding a hint in that opening.

Anyway, enjoy:

Almost everybody has a bucket list, along with something on that list that they want to accomplish before they graduate or leave town or die: to learn how to code (the dream of my somewhat nerdy brother Eric, as well as my somewhat cool boyfriend Luca), to go to a heavy metal festival and see their favorite bands perform (my friend Rudy, who plans to do just that after graduation), or to confess their feelings to the rebellious, cool-as-hell River Fuhrmann (my friend Lavender Murphy, who has no idea that the rebellious, cool-as-hell River also has a thing for Lavender, but is too proud to admit it). I have my own bucket list, but mine is rather unusual, as at the top of my list was ghost stories.

Thoughts? Overly long? Any errors? What’s on your bucket list*? Let’s discuss in the comments below.

And while you’re at it, why not try #FirstLineFriday yourself? It’s easy, it’s fun, and it’s great practice for authors of all stripes. Sadly, I’m taking a small break from tagging, so you’re safe from my torture for now. But if you want me to tag you, consider yourself tagged. Or better yet, let me know. I’ll catch you next week.

Anyway, that’s all for now. I’m hoping to see a movie this weekend and maybe write a review of it. If not, you can expect a blog post this Sunday.

Until the next time, my Followers of Fear!

*Mine involves meeting and/or having my books read by Stephen King and/or Anne Rice, going ghost-hunting with the Ghost Adventures Crew, having a custom car made from a hearse, and writing for Doctor Who. Does that surprise any of you?

My writing space

My writing space

As many of you know, I’ve been living in my own space for a little over a month, and I’ve been working at my new job for about the same amount of time. I’d been wanting to move into my own place for ages after I moved back in with my dad, but it took a paying job to finally make it happen (hopefully the job keeps going for quite a while). And I love it here. I can do my own thing (which is actually pretty weird, truth be told) without having to hold back for other people; I can cook my own meals, including some fun meat recipes (my dad’s a vegetarian, so I’m having a blast expanding my chicken recipes); and I finally have my own spot where I write my stories, something I haven’t had in years. Plus the neighbors are quiet and I’m in a pretty nice partof the neighborhood, so it’s pleasant to live here. And close to work, too. I’m happy about that.

There are only three things I can really complain about:

  • Laundry is almost as expensive as it was in my college dorm. Maybe more.
  • I don’t have a dishwasher, so I have to hand-wash everything. That’s not so bad, but when you’re sure you’ve scrubbed something as hard as possible, and then you find there’s some grease left…
  • As far as I know, my building isn’t haunted in any way, shape, or form. Yes, I consider that a con. It’s a minor con, but it’s a con, nonetheless.

On a somewhat related tangent, I took an AP Psychology course in my last year of high school, and I actually remember quite a bit from that class. One was that some very interesting things happen when you move house or change jobs, mentally. You are better able to break bad habits (though I can’t seem to lose my sweet tooth, no matter what I do), and something in your brain frees up, allowing for the easy formation of new habits and routines, and even heightened creativity.

Well, I’m definitely doing that heightened creativity thing pretty well. In fact, I haven’t been this creative since my first time in Europe! Since I moved into my new apartment, I’ve had a multitude of new ideas, and I’ve gotten even more ideas since I started working at my job. They’ve mostly been short stories, which are the most common ideas I have (and the ones I struggle with the most to get right, weirdly enough), but I’ve had a couple of novel ideas as well, really good ones. Like, really good. Like, the kind that I think people will compare to Stephen King novels someday, really good. I had one of those the other day while putting away my groceries. I was pulling Dr. Pepper out of a box and onto the top shelf (I think I formed a new bad habit, over consuming caffeinated sodas. What can I say? I need caffeine to get through work some days), and I had this idea for a story involving an actress and reincarnation. And I was like, “That’s a good idea. It could work.”

Ouroboros, a symbol of reincarnation to some. I may try to integrate it into that story idea I had.

Of course, with the many ideas I’ve had over the past six weeks or so, I’ve had less time for actually writing and editing. I’ve been working on Rose for a couple of weeks, but I’ve only gotten through Chapter 2 so far. I think that’s partly because I’m rewriting a lot of the first couple chapters based on the suggestions I got from my advisor and second reader after the second draft (and that’s a lot of material to work with), but on most weekdays I only have a couple of hours to write. Once I get home, I check my email and everything else I didn’t have access to while at work, I make and eat my dinner, I make a lunch for tomorrow, I shower. Anytime left over is for writing, editing, or blogging before I go to bed (unless I have to make a midweek shopping trip to the grocery store or something. Then I have even less time).

Honestly, I wish I could divide myself in two during the day. One Rami stays home and works on the stories, the other goes to work and gets the assignments done.

Yeah, I know. Bad idea. One Rami Ungar is a sign of the Apocalypse. Two of me would surely cause calamity and discord just by our very existence (kind of like a certain American presidential candidate I could name).

But I digress. The point is, these new environments re getting my brain going, giving me all sorts of ideas for stories that I hope to write as soon as possible. In the meantime, I’ll keep working, and I’ll keep riding this creativity wave for as long as possible.

And I hope that you all get to enjoy the ideas I come up with during this period someday. I would very much like that indeed.

Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, which has turned my life into one long night, seven times cursed and seven times sealed. Never shall I forget that smoke. Never shall I forget the little faces of the children, whose bodies I saw turned into wreaths of smoke beneath a silent blue sky. Never shall I forget those flames which consumed my faith forever. Never shall I forget the nocturnal silence which deprived me, for all eternity, of the desire to live. Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to dust. Never shall I forget these things, even if I am condemned to live long as God himself. Never.

Elie Wiesel, Night

This is really hard for me to write. I actually cried a little when I found out. It feels like I lost someone dear to me. A few minutes ago, a friend of mine sent me a message over Facebook. It was a New York Times article, telling me that Elie Wiesel had died. He was 87.

My only response was “No.”

Now if you’re unfamiliar with who Elie Wiesel was, he was a Holocaust survivor who was liberated from Buchenwald concentration camp in 1945, one of three survivors of his family. Ten years later, he wrote a 900-page account of his experiences in the camps, which was later shortened to the 127-page memoir La Nuit, later translated into English as Night. As time went on, and Night gained attention, Wiesel became a well-known speaker on the Holocaust, as well as other subjects, including Israel, genocides across time and the world, and human rights. He also wrote over 56 more books, helped to found the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (where, on opening day, he famously interrupted one of the speakers, I think President Carter, by saying that all the niceties were meaningless when there were horrors being perpetrated in Yugoslavia), received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986, started the Elie Wiesel Foundation with his wife, Marion, to fight intolerance and prejudice, and taught at Boston University as the Andrew Mellon Professor of the Humanities.

I first met Mr. Wiesel as a boy. Not in person, though I would do that when I was a teenager. My father had a copy of Night, along with his other books Day and Dawn, in his office in the synagogue. My dad gave it to me, though I can’t remember why. Perhaps I’d been asking questions about the Holocaust, or maybe he just thought I’d get something out of it. Either way, I did. I read Night several times over the many years, stealing to my dad’s office after services on Saturdays to read the story of a fifteen year old boy who had experienced so much at such a young age.

I only realize this now, but Wiesel became, in my mind, one of the older kids whom I looked up to and hung out when I saw them. There were plenty of guys and girls like that when I was a kid, teens who tried and became real role models for the rambunctious young me. I always looked up to those kids, and Wiesel became one of them, esteemed more than any of the others.

I later got to meet this hero in my mind, though he was not the young man I always imagined in my head. I think I was twelve or thirteen at the time. My synagogue has a yearly event where some big speaker is invited to speak to the congregation. That year, we were excited to have a huge coup in our speaker.

I think I remember seeing him for the first time, and remembering how small and old he was. At my age, I was around the same height as him. It was quite the contrast from my mental image. But he was so kind. And even though my vocabulary wasn’t that big at that age, I knew that, the moment I shook his hand, I was shaking the hand of a giant. He was like the titular character of my dad’s favorite Yiddish short story, “Bontsha the Silent” (you can read a full PDF in English here), in which the main character finds out that if he only opened his mouth to complain about the world, he would’ve shook the heavens, only in this case, Wiesel made use of his power, and it resonated.

Sadly, I only remember a little bit from that evening. It was ten years ago, and you don’t tend to remember much from that age, even when it’s from great men. I do remember, quite clearly, that he started with a story about how a woman and her friends thought they recognized him on the street, only to conclude that it couldn’t possibly be him. I think you can tell a lot about a titan when they begin a speech with a humorous story.

And that’s what Elie Wiesel was. A titan. A giant. A being that was more than what “man” could ever constitute. He spoke louder than Bontscha ever felt the need to, and the world shook in response. It took notice. He made the world notice Bosnia, Darfur, all the horrors of the many genocides over the years, and then some. Through his foundation and his many books and speaking engagements, he educated the world, molded minds to be more cognizant of both the great evils and the great goods that human beings were capable of, and encouraged them to take action.

And that night, I got to hear him speak, I got to enjoy desserts with him and the rest of the VIPs at the event that night, and I even got a photo with him. When he left and I got the chance to say goodbye (we were both leaving at the same time), it was like using a huge force go by.

He wasn’t the friend I had in my mind. That was the only encounter I had with him outside of the books he wrote. But he was so much more to me and to so many more people out there. Perhaps one could make the argument that he was the greatest Jew of our modern times (sorry, Jon Stewart), and one of the greatest living people to boot. Across the world, people will hear the news and they will feel his passing. They will cry, like I did. They may even tear their clothes, a tradition in Judaism on the passing of someone important. And that’s what’s happened. Someone important has left this world. A great titan, in a form that spoke of gentleness and tolerance, has gone onto the next life, and we have all suffered a great loss because of it.

In the Jewish tradition, we often put a special suffix after the names of people who have died: z”l. It means zichrono liv’racha, which means “may their memory be a blessing.” The Holocaust was a horrible event, a memory that mankind would rather forget, but it produced one of the greatest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. And we shall remember him, and his memory shall be a blessing, encouraging us to be better in all circumstances. And I shall definitely try to live up to those lessons, even more in Wiesel’s death as I did in life.

Goodbye, Mr. Wiesel, z”l. We shall miss you so.

Baruch Dayan Ha-emet.

It’s Friday again, so you know what that means. It’s #FirstLineFriday!

Now, if you don’t know what #FirstLineFriday is, let me explain it to you. On Fridays, you:

  1. Create a post on your blog entitled #FirstLineFriday, hashtag and all.
  2. Explain the rules like I’m doing now.
  3. Post the first one or two lines of a potential story, a story-in-progress, or a completed or published story.
  4. Ask your readers for feedback, and encourage them to try #FirstLineFriday on their own blogs (tagging is encouraged but not necessary).

For this week’s entry, I’m doing another novel I’ve had the idea for since…I can’t remember when. A long time. And this Monday I finished reading a book on living in Victorian England, which is when this novel would take place (I’ve got several ideas taking place around that era, it’s just such a fun, fertile era for stories), and I felt like posting potential lines from that book. Especially since I know a lot more about that era now (speaking of which, if you ever have the luck to get a time machine and head back to Victoria’s reign, STAY AWAY FROM DOCTORS AND PHARMACISTS! The stuff they give out is usually full of opiates or poison. You’re better off not taking anything, or just packing some OTCs from this age before you go). Anyway, enjoy:

When I found out I was the daughter of a noble family and was rescued from the West End, I almost expected something out of a popular novel, with a love triangle between me, a rough but kind old boyfriend, and a roguish but gentle young duke; a rival who would try to bring me down for being beautiful and somewhat naive about upper society; and all that other tosh that people love in their books.

If only that had happened, because what actually happened continues to haunt me even to this day.

Thoughts? Errors? Let me know in the comments below.

I won’t be tagging anyone this week (I feel like giving you all a reprieve from my torture), but I still encourage you to try #FirstLineFriday on your own blogs. It’s easy, a lot of fun, and for us writers, it’s great practice for writing openings. In fact, I think I’ll tag someone–oh wait, almost went back on my word there. Sorry folks.

That’s all for now. I’l probably have another post out later today or tomorrow, so keep an eye out. In the meantime, have a great weekend, my Followers of Fear. I plan to, though I don’t have any plans at the moment.

I just got an interview published on BookGoodies.com. I got the chance to talk to them about the usual stuff, though I did enjoy that they took my author photo and put it horizontal. Definitely check it out.

Also, I’ve had eight ideas for stories today, starting with a dream I had this morning. Talk about a creative day.

See you Friday!

It’s Friday again, so you know what that means. It’s #FirstLineFriday!

Now if you don’t know what #FirstLineFriday is, let me explain how it works. On Fridays, you:

  1. Create a post on your blog entitled #FirstLineFriday
  2. Explain the rules like I’m doing now.
  3. Post the first one or two lines of a possible story, a story-in-progress, or a completed or published story.
  4. Ask your readers for feedback, and then encourage them to try #FirstLineFriday on their own blogs (tagging is encouraged but not necessary).

For this week, I’m doing the first lines for a short story I had the idea for earlier this week. I was talking to a woman at my new workplace about some rain that was expected to fall later that day (didn’t fall till late that night, though, so I brought my umbrella to work for nothing!). I mentioned that I was not a fan of being caught in the rain, and she told me that it was weird for a horror writer to be afraid of rain (I’m not, but I get the jab). She then told me I should write a horror story about the rain. Well, challenge accepted. I thought about it, and I finally came up with something that I thought would work. Don’t know when I’ll write it, but I got something good, so I’m sure when I do it’ll be great.

Anyway, enjoy:

Mellie had left the bank two blocks behind her when the wind stole her umbrella, sending it up into the trees on the other side of the street. At the same time, the rain fell down upon her in waves, soaking her down to her skin.

Thoughts? Errors? Too many cliches? Let’s discuss.

And while you’re at it, why not try #FirstLineFriday on your own blog? It’s easy, a lot of fun, and it’s great for practicing openings. In fact, I’m going to tag one of my followers and make them try it. Let’s see…I choose S. Hunter Nesbit! Congratulations, you’ve been tagged. You have to do your own #FirstLineFriday either today or next week. Good luck and have fun with it!

That’s all for now, my Followers of Fear. I’m editing as much as possible this weekend. If I have anything to post about, I’ll let you know. Until next time!

It’s Friday again, so you know what that means! It’s #FirstLineFriday! It’s also been a full week of work at my new job. I’ll have to blog about that at some point, if I’m allowed (government work, you need to be very careful when you talk about what you do with them).

Now if you don’t know what #FirstLineFriday is, let me explain. On Fridays, you:

  1. Create a post on a blog entitled #FirstLineFriday, hashtag and all.
  2. Explain the rules like I’m doing now.
  3. Post the first one or two lines of a potential short story, a story-in-progress, or a completed or published story.
  4. Ask your readers for feedback and encourage them to try #FirstLineFriday on their blogs as well (tagging is encouraged but not necessary).

Ever since I moved into my new apartment, I’ve been feeling more creative than I have in months. Oh, the number of new ideas I’ve had since I started living on my own! So picking just one story to do an entry on was a hard choice. In the end, I went with on I came up with last weekend, inspired partially by a story I read recently, about an online campaign of witches to cast a hex on that Stanford student who only got six months for rape (yes, both of those are a thing. Crazy, right?). Along with some recent events, I was able to come up with something original and strange and hopefully creepy. Enjoy:

Sometimes you can only take so much from the world before you just decide to strike back. And yesterday was the final straw.

Thoughts? Errors? Let’s discuss.

And while you’re at it, why not try #FirstLineFriday on your own blog? It’s easy, a lot of fun, and if you’re a writer, you get great practice for openings in your own stories. In fact, I’m going to tag someone. Let’s see…I pick Ryan M. Church of The Way of the Storyteller. Ryan, you’ve been tagged. You must do your own #FirstLineFriday either this week or next. Good luck!

That’s all for now. Packed weekend after work, so I hope I have time to check in with the latest. Until next time, my Followers of Fear!

I’m both shocked and, at the same time, not surprised that I’m on this topic again. I was really hoping to talk about something writing related this morning, but events this weekend have caused me to shift gears. So prepare, because I’m about to do one of my world-famous gun violence posts!

Now if you’re unaware, on Friday evening at 10:30pm in the city of Orlando, Florida, singer, YouTube star, and “The Voice” contestant Christina Grimmie was shot by a deranged fan who apparently drove from St. Petersburg with the express purpose of killing her. Grimmie’s brother (without a gun of his own, no less) tackled the shooter to the ground, probably preventing more people from being killed. Grimmie later succumbed to her injuries and died, leading to a powerful outpouring of grief on the Internet. Even I, who only had a casual acquaintance with Grimmie’s work, felt her passing deeply.

Just a little over twenty-four hours later, a man armed with an assault rifle entered the Pulse, a popular Orlando gay bar and dance club, and started shooting, leading to a hostage situation that ended with the shooter’s death. The latest numbers show fifty confirmed deaths and even more injuries, making this the worse shooting in American history, worse than Newtown and Aurora. All this happened despite the fact that an armed police officer (a good guy with a gun) was on scene at the club.

All this, barely a day and a half apart, in the same city, in a state with very lax gun laws and a high amount of gun violence. Both shootings involving guns.

I wrote last year after a spate of shootings that America’s gun problem is like a chronic illness, a constant condition that plagues and grieves us, and needs treatment to be fixed, even when the treatment isn’t always available or the subject doesn’t want to admit there’s a problem, let alone that they need treatment. And that comparison still holds water nearly an entire year later. America is plagued by shootings. We’re the only developed nation with this much gun violence, to the point where it’s almost considered normal. Guns are causing more deaths than the United States should have.

These aren’t toys. They’re not meant for anything creative.

Now, I know some people will say, “But Rami, how can an inanimate object cause murder? People cause murder.” Well, people cause murder, that’s true. But guns, like missiles and military drones, are designed to facilitate killing. They’re made with that express purpose. The first firearms were used for military purposes, and so were the cannons and flintlock rifles that came later, with hunting being a secondary use for the latter. They were invented for the strategic purpose of taking enemy life, not for baking cookies or improving home decor. This is in direct contrast to knives, which unless made for military purposes like the Marine Corps Ka-Bar combat knife, has other primary uses like cutting and preparing food.

There’s no argument around this. Guns are made for killing, whether it’s animal or human life. 

In the next couple of weeks, we’re going to be seeing renewed calls for restrictions on gun sales and ownership, as well as push back from the NRA and other Second Amendment advocates trying to frame this as a mental health issue (in the case of Christina Grimmie’s killer) or as an issue with ISIS or Muslims (early reports indicate that the shooter at the Pulse had ISIS leanings). And while I do believe that mental illness and terrorist ideologies may have played a part in these tragedies, Christina Grimmie might still be alive if the deranged fan had gone at her with a knife instead of a gun, and I doubt fifty people would be dead if the killer had a knife. Maybe a couple people, but after the first few attempts at stabbing, someone’s bound to tackle this guy.

And it’s hard to argue mental illness or terrorism when a man uses a gun to intimidate his wife, which happens all too often, unfortunately.

The problem is, both these tragedies, and so many more, have been made possible by the use of guns.

Luckily, there is treatment for this problem. In Australia, Canada, England, Japan, and many other developed nations, gun violence is at waaaaaay lower levels than in America. The difference is that they have restrictions on who can have guns and what kinds of guns. Not a blanket ban on all guns, but some restrictions are in place. And I’m sure, that if America were to institute similar restrictions, we would see the same results. In fact, states with more gun control measures have lower instances of gun violence than states that do not. If we were to implement the same thing on a nationwide level, imagine how much the loss of life could be lowered.

And for those who say that gun control measures don’t work because bad guys will still get guns, so it’s best to give the good guys guns instead, I have this to say: if there are still people who run red lights, do we throw out traffic laws and just let people drive as they wish without consequences? If a boat or a house has a leak and water comes in, do we destroy the boat or the house and say they were useless and never would have worked? No, we prosecute the people who run the red lights for violating traffic laws. We patch up the holes so that water can’t get in. And if people are still getting restricted weapons and committing acts of violence with them, then doesn’t that prove even more that they’re criminals, and that they were willing to go to unsavory means to commit acts of violence? I think it does.

Not to mention, how do you know who’s a good guy and who’s a bad guy? It’s not as if the good guys are marked in green and the bad in red when they pull out their weapons. And in a crowded room where everyone has a gun? Really hard to tell!

It’s time to put a stop to displays like this.

Treatment is available. We just have to be brave enough to take it.

Otherwise, we’ll continue to have incidents like what we experienced this weekend, and families will wake up without loved ones because tragedies that could’ve been prevented weren’t. We need to admit that there’s a problem, we need to take measures to stop the problem, and we need to do this now. Not tomorrow. Not next month. Not next year, or in another years.

Now. Let’s push for expanded background checks, closing gun show loopholes, and banning assault weapons or other military-grade weaponry on the open market. Let’s also put aside funding for research into gun violence for the CDC, and expand the requirements needed to purchase and use a gun (a yearly gun safety course, for example, sounds sensible enough). If we can do that, I’m sure we can prevent more innocent losses of life.

Or we can go on as we have been doing. And we can’t allow that, under any circumstances.

Note: Immediately after finishing this, I saw a report that a man with weapons in his car had been arrested in LA near the Pride Festival there. Thank God law enforcement caught him, or who knows how many people might’ve been killed.