Posts Tagged ‘reflections’

It’s been a week since I decided to come out of the closet and reveal my sexuality. I’m happy to say that the response has been overwhelmingly positive. I’ve heard people tell me that they are proud of me for coming out, others have told me as long as I’m happy they don’t care. One friend said that while she found it incredible that we lived in a world where people had to make a big announcement in order to come out, but wished me luck nonetheless.

But I think my favorite reaction has been that of my close friends at school. They all saw my post on Facebook and gave it a Like (I can’t be sure, I got over 60 Likes on that one post), and when I saw them the next day in classes they just didn’t say a word. They didn’t need to. They just smiled, asked me how I was doing, and then we got to talking about the usual stuff. In a way, I think that’s what all LGBT people and those who support them wish for: a day when sexuality isn’t something that one has to hide or reveal. It’s just something that’s part of a person.

Now that I’ve come out though, I think I’ll be a bit more active in defending gay rights on my blog. A couple of gun-rights advocates had turned me off political issues for a while, but I think it’s time I resume ranting on what I feel matters, especially for gay rights. So get ready for a whole storm of political issues in between my updates on writing and school and my musings on writing and horror.

In fact, I think I’ll start on one now!

(See what being encouraging does to people?)

I have a friend who sometimes will go off the Internet for twenty-four hours and will just search the area around her for fun, excitement, stimulating conversation, something new and enjoyable. She calls it “Fishing for Life”, which I think is an appropriate title for what she does. As a college student, I can’t exactly go offline for a full day (what if I miss something important for classes?), but I admire the concept of disconnecting for a little while and going out into the world to enjoy it. And I did a bit of that this weekend.

Yesterday I was at my apartment, and I was going stir-crazy. I’d been cooped in because I had to work on an assignment, and then when I’d tried writing, I’d found myself unable to do it. I just had no motivation to write, I was just too restless. So I basically went on Facebook looking to see if anyone wanted to hang out. A friend of mine was going to a birthday party of a mutual acquaintance of ours, so I decided to buy a gift card and tag along. I ended up having a wonderful evening: over drinks (my lawyers swear non-alcoholic because obviously I’m not old enough to drink) I talked to and met some wonderful people. The birthday boy danced around the house, for some reason wearing a giant lizard suit and officer’s coat (hey it’s his birthday, he should go wild if he wants) and giving hugs to everyone who came. There were two girls who were from a small town about an hour from Columbus, and their high school used to bring in Chinese teachers straight from China just to teach the language. And I met a lovely young woman who shared a love with me for the TV show Hannibal and said she would check out The Following when I told her she looked like one of the characters. It was a wonderful couple of hours, and by the time I got home I was refreshed and relaxed and able to write again.

And then today I went to meditation class. That’s sort of a weekly ritual for me, going downtown on the buses to drop and pick up books at the library and then head up a couple floors to meditate, but today it took on an extra special meaning, as I realized that meeting my meditation group was also a way of fishing for life. And in our small study room, with soft music playing and our minds collectively aimed at clearing ourselves of thoughts and impurities and awakening ourselves, I felt a peace I hadn’t felt in so, so long. Even five or ten minutes after we’d finished meditating, my scalp was still tingling where my seventh chakra was supposed to be. And during the meditation, I had a couple of ideas for stories, one of which reminded me of an Anne Rice or a Dean Koontz story mixed with a manga I read a few years back.

I have to say, I rather enjoyed going out and fishing for life. And when I do it, I feel so much better and things come more easily to me. I guess as much as I like to sit in and work on the next great American Horror novel (or what I hope will be that), I need a certain amount of interaction with other people and in other places in order to write with any sort of competence or joy.

So the next time I feel antsy and can’t write, I’ll see what’s going on in or around campus. I could find a great idea for a story while I’m out and about, and while I’m at it I could find something even greater.

Do you ever go fishing for life? What happened when you did?

question has been bugging me for some time now. What is the worst possible death a character can receive in horror fiction? As death, mayhem and slaughter are common byproducts of the stories told in horror fiction, it’s a question that I think horror writers should consider deeply. And sadly we can’t use old Master Splinter’s opinion: “You die without honor”. Wise words from an anthropomorphic rat, but I’m not sure they can apply in this genre.

I’ve had plenty of possible answers, many of which I’ve discarded because I came up with a good reason why they shouldn’t be the answer or because the answers I came up with just didn’t feel right. A terrifying death? No, that’s too easy. A slow death? By then death is a release. A painful death? Same answer as the last one. A slow and painful death? Death would still be a release. A death that you can see coming from a mile away? As scary as that would be, at the end of it you’d just be relieved.

And then the answer hit me the other day: a death, whether it be slow, or fast, painful or quick, terrifying in its execution or just too unexpected to even process what’s happening, that offers the possibility that nothing happens beyond this world. I mean, isn’t that scary? Many world religions spend years trying to hammer out the details of the afterlife just to assure us of one. But what if all that hammering out was for naught? What if all those near-death experiences were just chemicals in the brain? What if an end to our existence was what came after this existence?

If you ask me, that is the worst sort of death you could have in a horror story, and all that leads up to it is just the beginning or an opening act. At the very least, it makes for some interesting food for thought. And it could help create a new story. Or even help improve one’s writing skills  You never know.

At the risk of being morbid, what is the worst sort of death you could imagine happening in a horror story?

This year in Ohio, same-sex marriage is on the ballot. As someone who supports LGBT rights, I’m throwing my support in for anyone who wants to marry someone regardless of their sex. It’s only just right.

But besides that, there’s something else I want to share with you all. I’m bisexual. I’ve been bisexual for nearly 21 years (though I’ve only just recently realized it) and I’ll be bisexual for the rest of my life. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

For those of you who aren’t very well-versed in bisexuality (or in the LGBT community at all, for that matter), this only means that I am attracted to men as well as women. I don’t really have a preference or a set type. All I care about is that I’m happy with the person I’m with and if they’re happy with me. I’m not confused or unsure of which one I really like, as some–even members of the LGBT community–might think. I also am not confused, living a horrid lifestyle, or have the Devil whispering in my ear (I think he’d rather whisper in the ears of Assad or Putin than in mine). It’s a biological trait based on a combination of several genes, and there could be a good argument that it runs in my family.

Also, I’m not oversexed or always looking at guys and girls in a sexual way. If I’m oversexed it’s because I’m a healthy young man in college, and we’re all oversexed to some degree. Also, don’t flatter yourself. I don’t look at every person hoping and praying for a hook-up, including you. I’m not even sure what my type is, so don’t assume you’re it. And I’m also not looking to molest kids or brainwash kids. The monsters who molest kids are only looking for power over victims or because they can’t rise to the occasion (so to speak) with adults, so they target kids. And you can’t brainwash kids to be LGBT: like I said before, it’s genetic. If you’re kid is LGBT, it’s because they were that way at conception. And the more you try to prove me wrong or pray away the gay or whatever, the more you’ll find I’m right.

And the LGBT community is not a cabal or a bunch of bullies. If there’s a cabal, gay marriage would already be legal in every nation on earth and anti-gay rhetoric would result in prison sentences. Also, calling us bullies is saying that a small minority, maybe 10-20% of the population at the most, is more powerful than the heterosexual majority and is able to beat up straight people on the streets. I really don’t think that’s the reality. Do you?

I also don’t let my sexuality define me. I’m not that kid from Glee who everybody identifies as “the gay guy” or “the gay guy with the really high voice”. I identify more with the fact that I’m a horror writer or that I’m Jewish than I do with my sexuality. So if you start calling me “the bisexual horror writer”, I’ll counter that with “I’m a writer that just happens to be attracted to both men and women.” And most people wouldn’t realize my sexuality if they looked at me. They might realize I’m eccentric or not your ordinary college student. But my sexuality? I’d need to reveal it or be detected by an actual gaydar for people to realize it.

How did this post become a testimony for the fallacies with most anti-gay arguments and how people should treat me? I’m not sure, but I want to say that I’m happy to let people know finally about who I am and not have to keep it to myself like a disgusting burp. It’s just who I am, like my being a writer or Jewish or that I can make a conversation amusing and strange with just one sentence. Just one part of being me.

And if you don’t like what I am, if you believe differently about my sexuality, then that’s your choice. Just don’t leave hateful comments or try to tell me I can be cured or that I’m going to Hell. I don’t even believe in Hell! Judaism has no set definition of the afterlife. We’re more likely to be plagued by acid reflux than by an afterlife of fire and brimstone for our transgressions, and I’m already on antacids. But if you want to try to change me or make me feel bad for being who I am, then I don’t think we should associate too much, online or offline.

Finally, I would like to close this post with a big, hearty thank you for all of you who’ve supported me and continue to support me. The love I’ve received and the acceptance of who I am is overwhelming, and I’m happy to be surrounded by so many understanding and loving people. It’s great to be who I am and not punished for it. So I bid you adieu till next time, my Followers of Fear (which might be later today, who knows?). And let me say to all those who are suffering from bigotry, it gets better. Don’t despair, because there are so many people like you and we all love you regardless of who you’re attracted to. All you have to do is reach out, and we’ll be there for you.

In the meantime, please enjoy this awesome video: Same Love by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis. It repeats a lot of what I’ve been saying here, and it is an anthem of love, truth, and hope for so many people out there. Please watch it with me. Thank you.

I got The Hunger Games: Catching Fire on DVD on Friday and watched it this afternoon. If I were to do a review, I’d say it was a very good adaptation of a book I absolutely hated for a number of reasons. However, I’m not writing this post as a review for Catching Fire. I’m writing this post because, after I took the DVD out and went to make my dinner, I thought to myself, “There is such a difference between Katniss Everdeen and Zahara.”

And indeed, there is a great difference between the two characters. And I’m not just talking about upbringing, religious identification, and their experiences. I think the biggest differences between Katniss and Zahara is their access to choices in their lives. (Okay, there’s also major differences in character development, but since all three books of The Hunger Games are out and only one book of the Reborn City series is out, I won’t go into that lest I spoil something).

In THG, Katniss rarely has any sort of choice in what she can or can’t do. Except for certain memorable instances, Katniss follows a script that someone else wrote, whether that be the Capitol or someone associated with the Capitol, or District 13 and someone in the rebellion. Sure, the moments when she gets a chance to make her own choices are pretty momentous. She volunteered for the Hunger Games, she nearly committed suicide using poison berries, and she killed President Coin in an act of revenge. But other than those moments, she’s mostly dancing to the tune of someone else’s fiddle. And she’s either unaware of it or she’s aware of it and so pissed off about it.

Zahara, on the other hand, has a little more leeway. When I wrote Reborn City and started planning its sequels, I obviously wasn’t planning on writing about Zahara’s choices. But after she’s forced to join the Hydras, she does find that she has a bit of choice in the events that occur later on in the story. And those choices do end up affecting the Hydras in several ways, whether  it involve a gang war about to go wrong, or by a simple encouragement that changes the way someone thinks. And as the series goes on, Zahara will get to make more choices, some of which will have greater effects than the previous ones she’s made.

Why the difference? Well, I guess you’d have to ask the authors. In addition to wanting to create a story that was a commentary on both our addictions to violence and reality TV, Suzanne Collins also wanted (I’m assuming) to allow readers to relate to the feeling that our lives are not our own. We’ve all been there, had those moments when we felt our lives weren’t our own, where we felt like our lives are being directed by someone else. Maybe our parents, our employers, our teachers, our government, our spouses, etc. Basically we have to subordinate our lives to the needs or whims of others. This speaks to plenty of people, particularly teenagers and young adults who are constantly pressured to fulfill the wishes and pressures of the adults around them. I can only guess as to why Mrs. Collins wanted to weave that theme into her trilogy, or if she even realized what she was weaving in until it was already there. What is obvious that Katniss exemplifies that theme of lack of control over one’s life, and it’s part of why people identify with her.

With Zahara and RC on the other hand, the intentions were very different. I realized early on in writing a novel about street gangs that people in gangs or in slums or broken families or several other similar situations that they feel like they can’t leave the situations they’re in. This attitude, which seems to perpetuate itself over generations in a terrible self-fulfilling prophecy, horrified me. Imagine people who didn’t try to change their horrible lives because they felt that trying was impossible, that it would only lead to pain and regret. Where they were was where they belonged. Throughout the trilogy I try to fight that belief through the travails of Zahara and the Hydras, making choices and fighting for not only their lives, but also to live their lives as they wish.

So I guess this difference in opportunity and choice for Katniss Everdeen and Zahara Bakur really just boils own to the intentions of the authors when we were writing our stories. I strove to write about teens fighting against a world that oppresses them and tries to control them, while Mrs. Collins seems to have written a story about a world where, among other things, the lives of others are maddeningly not their own.

It’s interesting what the intentions of the autor can do for a single story, isn’t it?

That’s all for now. Tomorrow school starts up again, so I’m heading to bed to get ready for the big day. Goodnight, Followers of Fear, and have a great week.

Today at work, I had a mostly usual day. Went through a ton of files, ate lunch, went through another ton of files, and had conversations with some of my coworkers about life, the weather, and the job. Pretty average. Oh, except for the fact that I came up with several different ideas for short stories and articles today. About 16 new ideas total, if I remember correctly.

And this is not unusual for me: just yesterday I had an idea for a psychological horror novel. The day before that, I came up with a science-fiction/horror novel, all while sitting calmly at my desk and going through file after file after file. So while coming up with so many ideas in a single day is somewhat unusual for me, coming up with ideas while working or going to classes is a pretty regular occurrence for me.

Why am I making a blog post out of this? Because there are some writers–not many, but some–who are under the mistaken impression that holding any sort of job will stifle creative juices and ruin them as an artist. For example, I used to be on friendly terms with a writer and blogger over in Europe. He wrote a lot of poetry, took plenty of photos, and was working on a novel. For reasons that I never found out, he and his wife separated and he ended up living on the streets. Because he didn’t want to get a job that would most likely force him to be a slave to a corporation or a government (at least based on his political views I assume that’s why he didn’t get a job), along with his views that a job would ruin his artistic power, he asked his readers to donate money to him through PayPal so that he could buy airline tickets to America where his parents were. Nobody donated, which he felt was a personal insult and he got really nasty afterwards. When I tried to be nice and encouraging to him, he swore at me, leading me to stop following him. Last I checked he’s still in Europe and living on the streets billing himself as a starving artist.

Now, I’m not saying that all artists who refuse to get jobs are like this. Many are the kindest, sweetest people you’ll ever meet. They’re sincere about wanting to do well in their chosen fields. But I do want to let artists of all kinds know that a job won’t necessarily ruin your career and your skills, whether you’re selling only a few books or several thousand books. In fact, sometimes a job can help you. Several of the people in my office read my work when it comes out; I wouldn’t have made some of the money I’ve made without their help. Not only that, but I’ve made a few connections through my job, including with a screenwriter I met today who’s working on a screenplay while helping students out with financial aid and other questions during the day. Tomorrow I’d like to give him the name of a professor at school who also has connections to Hollywood. I figure that’d help him.

So don’t worry about losing your creative streak if you get a 9 to 5 or even just a part-time job. It may actually make you more creative, or give you the drive to produce better work just so you can get out of that job. I’ve certainly benefitted from working. I’ve come up with so many ideas over the years while working in the financial aid office. I don’t think I would’ve come up with those ideas if I was in a different setting.

Not to mention the fact that I would’ve had to move back in with my parents or become homeless long ago if I hadn’t gotten a job. Trust me, I’m very grateful for that. Especially since I’m sheltered from the cold. Do you know how bad the weather can be in Ohio in winter?

If you’re still not sure, just go ahead and try it. Give it a month or two. If a job does kill you creatively, then I’m sorry that you can’t write while holding a job. And if you don’t find any change or instead find yourself becoming more creative, then I’m glad things are working out for you and I wish you luck in whatever occupation you’re currently working in.

How has holding a job affected your creativity? What advice do you have for authors who are concerned about how a job might affect their writing?

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Recently a fellow horror author and blogger I admire brought up a good point about horror, one that I’ve made in countless other posts. The point that he made was that a lot of horror out there is actually pretty terrible because of an over-reliance of gore and gross-out elements (blood, knives, etc.). Real horror is made not by grossing people out continuously over the course of a horror story, but by creating a feeling of dread, that feeling that something bad is going to happen and that it is going to get worse. That feeling builds and builds, until (hopefully) the reader is scared stiff by ensuing events.

Creating that dread feeling is difficult, to say the least. Like I’ve said in previous posts about terror (and I’m not yet convinced that they can’t be the same thing, depending on the circumstances), it’s one of the hardest parts of creating a good horror story. Creating that feeling takes time, precision, keen insight, and skill, cultivated over years and years of practice. It’s why plenty of would-be horror writers and filmmakers just opt out of trying to use terror in favor of just plain old blood and guts and gore as a so-so substitute. And when that doesn’t work so well, they add in sex as well (don’t believe me? Watch the Friday the 13th remake in all its crummy filmmaking and see how much dread there isn’t and how much sex and blood and gore there is. And no, I’ll never stop harping on how bad that film was).

Here’s an exercise that can help authors of all kinds visualize creating that dread feeling for your story: close your eyes and imagine yourself in a dark, dank, eerie hallway. This hallway goes on for some length, so far that you may not be able to see the very end. And it also takes many twists and turns, so that doesn’t help. As you walk down this hallway, you get the strange feeling that something horrible is going to happen just around the next corner or right behind that table or from that ceiling lamp with the crackling bulb. And as you get farther along, this feeling that something bad will happen grows and grows. Sometimes the places you think something will happen prove to be harmless, but other times you are correct and you’re only just able to get away with your head still on. Even so, you continue on, even though the feeling of ill-boding keeps growing, and you wish you could turn back or even just stop and stay where you are but you can’t, those aren’t options. The only option left is to continue on, reach the end with hopefully all your body parts still attached, and find a safe room located at the end of the hallway.

That hallway is your horror story. And it can be as long as it needs to be, have as much furniture under which monsters can hide as needs be, and have as many twists and turns as needs be. You just got to find a way to create that feeling of ill-boding, which is the feeling of dread that all the best horror stories are able to create. The exercise above is meant to help give people an idea of how creating that terror and dread can happen and to give them something to work with if they need help or practice creating that dread.

I hope that helps in some ways. Also, if you want to check out some books, TV shows, or movies that do a great job creating that feeling of dread, I highly recommend Stephen King’s IT, The Amityville Horror, and the first two seasons of American Horror Story. They do a very great job with creating dread in the reader/viewer. Trust me, I was afraid to go to sleep after I encountered one or two of these titles. They’re that scary.

All for now. I’m going to try to get some of my own fiction written and full of that dread feeling. Goodnight, Followers of Fear.

I just published my latest post on the blog Self-Published Authors Helping Other Authors. Today’s article is called Stuck For An Idea?, which explores osme of the methods and techniques I use when I can’t think of anything to write about. It’s based on a lot of personal experience, but I think a lot of authors might get something out of it. If you’re interested, please go check it out.

And if you’re an author who’s already self-published or considering self-publishing, please check out the rest of Self-Published Authors Helping Other Authors. It’s written by a variety of authors, myself included, who are dedicated to writing articles to help other authors out in writing and publishing in the indie market. I certainly find it helpful, and I recommend it every time I get the chance. And if you find the blog helpful, please subscribe to posts. You’ll learn tons, and what you learn may help catapult your writing and your career to new levels.

Good luck and enjoy!

I started a short story this past Sunday, a science-fiction story with LGBT characters and themes about how complicated relationships can get. It had a great concept, and it was an exciting story. I’ve been looking forward to writing it ever since I had the idea for it, and I made sure it was on the list of short stories I was going to work on when I decided it was time to limit how many more I was going to write. And I was making great progress on it too. I mean really good progress. Except for Tuesday night (I was busy that night with other stuff) I was getting 500-1000 words written each night.

But as I got further in this evening, I realized that I was slowing down, that something wasn’t working. I realized that the way I was going I was going to hit a wall with this story, so I had to stop and figure out what exactly was bugging me about this story. And I realized: like Resurrection, the way this story was going it’d be better off as a novel or a novella.

Normally I’d be okay with that, but for many reasons I don’t want to convert this particular short story into a novel. Not only do I already have so many ideas for novels to write that I’m not sure I want to add this story to that list, but I feel that if I can find some way to keep the short story as a short story, it’ll be a thousand times better than any novel I could ever write based on it. It’s a very strong feeling, too. So I’m not going to turn this particular story into a novel.

Instead, I’ll go back to the beginning. Most likely I’ll end up rewriting this story, and instead of writing a whole bunch of expository lead-up to the main scene, I’ll write that main scene, which is what inspired and excited me about this story in the first place. I feel overall it’ll be a better story that way, one that a sci-fi magazine would be proud to host within its pages.

So tonight I’ll end my writing spree by saving the short story and taking a break to think about how I can improve it. I have some ideas now, but nothing I want to act on just yet. I just need a little time to let the ideas cook and see what works and what doesn’t work. After all, this is one amazing short story idea I have. And it deserves to be written in a way I can be proud of.

That’s all for now. I’m going to watch something I’ve taped, and see what my brain can come up with in the morning. You all have a lovely night, and a fantastic weekend, my Followers of Fear. And I hope wherever you are, you’re warmer than I am. It’s Arctic temps here in Ohio. Trust me, I’m looking forward to spring and summer a lot more than most. Good thing I’ve got my Snuggie to keep me warm.

I do not tolerate negative language meant to denigrate a person because of their race, gender, orientation, or ability. So when I see someone using this sort of language flippantly or carelessly, I usually tend to avoid that person. If they’re a friend though, I’ll try to convince them not to use that language before I cut them off.

Last night I was forced to do just that. Someone I’m acquainted with at school was responding to people lamenting about Facebook buying some app or another. He thought it was hypocritical that they were complaining about it on Facebook and said they should reevaluate their lives (though he didn’t phrase it in such nice terms). Where I got upset was when he used the word “retard”. I’ve mentioned before that I have an autism spectrum disorder and I’d been called “retard” or “retarded” more than once by bullies because I didn’t understand certain social boundaries or conventions when I was younger. Not to mention that mental retardation (or intellectual disabilities, which seems to be the preferred term among medical professionals these days) is an actual medical condition, so using it as an insult hurts the people with actual mental retardation worse than it hurts the people having the insult hurled at them.

I asked my friend if he would not use that word because it has the potential to hurt people. He responded that he was using the word without negative connotations and that people should realize that (as if we’re mind-readers!). He also said he uses racial and other denigrating terms, including the N-word, and said he uses them without the negative connotations and that it’s my problem if I was insulted by it.

At that moment another friend of his, whom I’m acquainted with as well, joined the thread and started using the very same terms we’d just been discussing. At that point I decided to leave the conversation, unfriend the both of them, and go to bed (though not before coming up with an idea for a short story based on this experience). And it’s still on my mind, as this blog post makes evident.

The thing is, even if they think they’re not using the words with their negative connotations, it’s not so easy to disassociate a word or symbol from its negative meanings. Otherwise the swastika would still mean good luck and auspiciousness rather than Nazi Germany and the Holocaust as it does for many Westerners. And these sort of microaggressions can have terrible effects on the people being denigrated. If you’ve never heard the term “microaggression” before, there’s a great blog post on microaggressions that explains them in depth. If you don’t have the time to read it though, a microaggression is basically the everyday little forms of discrimination that minorities experience throughout their lives. An example is the continued use of saying “that’s so gay” as a way of saying something’s stupid. It is not only bringing down whatever is being called gay, but it is saying that there is something wrong with being gay in the first place. And while the basic definition of microaggressions means they are small, especially when compared to gay-bashings or other forms of assault and more obvious forms of discrimination, over time they can build up and cause stress, depression, or suicidal thoughts in the person being denigrated.

Personally I only ever use these sort of terms in stories in order to portray a character the way I want him or her to come across to an audience. Even then I hesitate to do it and seriously consider whether I should really use such negative terms and if there is another way to get across the full impression of the character. That’s why within all of Reborn City, a novel about gangs divided mostly on racial lines and with a white supremacist gang, you’ll only see one instance where I use the N-word and other racial terms (though I do have several characters call Zahara a “terrorist” in order to illustrate how ignorant and prejudiced the world of RC is against Muslims).

So when I see people using these sort of terms so flippantly, uncaring about the negative consequences of these words, I get pretty upset. These terms are attacks on people because they’re minorities, and because my former friends are white or deeply tanned and don’t receive discrimination for their skin color, gender, sexual orientation, or level of ability, they don’t necessarily realize the damage they’re doing by using these terms. And by calling the rest of us oversensitive for being upset that they’re using these words, they’re proving that they’re insensitive to the problems of others, not that we’re oversensitive.

So I finish this post urging people to really think about the terms they use. You’re not being cool or rebellious by using terms that bring down minorities. What you’re doing is hurting people and causing people to think you’re ignorant or bigoted. If you’re going to use them, use them in a way that won’t hurt anyone, such as using the N-word in Huckleberry Finn is used to illustrate the beliefs of that age towards African-Americans. Or these words can be used to fight discrimination: there is a growing body of literature, music and other media that uses these words to show how hurtful they are and possibly change the way people think. Slowly but surely, some people are changing the way that they think.

That is all for now. I hope my former friends learn that using these words has negative consequences. Especially the guy who actually happens to own an up-and-coming business. How many businesses have failed because of something the owner has done? I hope that doesn’t happen to him someday.