TKO Creations

I’ve been placed in the urgent queue for a partial removal surgery of my S1 disc that has herniated and begun pinching my right sciatic nerve. The date is still TBD, but if I disappear from the Internet for a week, that’s the reason why.

I’ll be in good hands, Spectrum Health is one of the best hospitals in the Midwest if not the country, and boasts a 95% success rate with my particular procedure. I should be perfectly fine and make a full recovery.

But it doesn’t hurt to keep my few followers updated.

If there is one thing that raises my ire and blood pressure more than anything, it’s listening to armchair developers or writers grumbling that content creators are “lazy”, usually because it takes a year or more for the audience to enjoy in a matter of hours.

I used to think it was just a matter of ignorance, of people not really understanding just how much effort it takes to create and refine something to the quality that the creator deems is acceptable.  Sure, some fanfiction.net writer can slap together a 1,000 word chapter every day.  So could I.  But the time spent would reflect the quality.

It would be trash, just like 99% of everything created.

Could it be that creators tend to have too high of expectations for our work, and that the little quibbling errors we fuss over would be largely overlooked by our audience?  Maybe (but then I’d point you to the legions of video game message boards filled with vile little brats screaming bloody murder over any bug no matter how small).

There’s no method of content development that’s quick AND quality.  And lord knows content creators have any number of neuroses that slow the process of creation down.

But come on guys.  We’re not lazy.

We’re just messed up.  At least get the criticism right.

Some concept art for the cover of The Tower of Kartage!

Thanks, Fred!  It’s looking great.

Well, I supposedly AM supposed to provide more content to the blog.

Quick update for the few who don’t know, I’ve been in observation since Thursday morning due to lingering sciatica that I started having in late May.  There had been some minor procedures to try and combat the inflammation until this most recent visit, but nothing concrete.

Finally, after poor sleep and eating over four days, and needing to be taken by ambulance for severe chills, my condition was stabilized and I at long last have a conclusive answer now that earlier X-rays found no degenerative effects and an MRI confirmed just what was out of place.

My Physical Therapist was REAL close (she suspected an L5 herniation), it turned out to be an S1 protrusion pinching the sciatic nerve (just one disc down), and likely the root cause of the inflammation in the tendons along my inner leg as well.  In theory, at some point today, I’ll have a nerve root block performed that will finally reduce the swelling of the nerve, and allow me to continue the physical exercises and allow the disc to heal normally.

It’s a fairly routine procedure that should not require surgery, and I should make a full recovery as long as I don’t anything stupid with myself.  Cross your fingers folks, because fortunately I don’t think I need any prayers.

I know it might seem odd, considering how I don’t consider myself a “funny” guy, and how my writing style isn’t always what would be considered intentionally comedic, but nonetheless, the passing of Robin Williams (by apparent suicide) was one that got to me… because of how it struck a cord within myself and how I reached the point I’m at today.

I want to lead off with an article written by David Wong at cracked.com: http://www.cracked.com/quick-fixes/robin-williams-why-funny-people-kill-themselves/

For a tl;dr version; you see our “funniest” celebrities find their end in this sort of fashion for a reason.  The funny guy is a mask to hide the parts of themselves they don’t want the public to see, it’s the wall they’ve constructed to keep the world from seeing the “real” them, and that “real” them is a very tormented person indeed.

This is a feeling I know.  I had been down that road.  I was a class clown through much of High School.  I didn’t care if they were laughing with me or at me.  As long as they were reacting to the exterior, they weren’t poking and prodding at the inner turmoil caused by the mental abuse from my father, and the physical (and at one point sexual) abuse of select peers.

Even now, my initial reaction to a new social situation is to throw on the funny guy mask and ham it up, though its not something I lean on anymore.  I’ve learned it’s a face best used sparingly, to break the ice and not much else.

For that, I have the people who refused to let me use the mask during my twenty-something years, who didn’t let me wave off interactions with them with a joke and a smile.  People who were patient and caring and helped me understand that the sort of people who would be repulsed by the “real me” aren’t the people that deserve the “funny guy” to begin with.

As a result, I might not be the life of the party anymore, but I’m a lot healthier of a person mentally.  I can only credit being incredibly lucky, because I certainly didn’t do anything special to bring those people into my life.

At the same time, it also changed the reason I write.  Up throughout my schooling, writing was my escape; and it reflected in my style with high fantasy and escapism.  Now, my writing is exploring and showing my “real me”, the good and the bad, willingly revealing the dark places I’ve been in and showing the world the smooth finish and the warts.

Because I don’t want to hide behind walls anymore.  I want people to see the whole tapestry, even if it isn’t always pretty.

Much like its predecessor, Book 2 of my series has had it’s permanent price drop to $10.99 (and $5.99 for Kindle and Nook versions).  If you were waiting for this moment, now’s your opportunity!