The Crazy Frog

It's been a ridiculously long time since I have written in my blog, slap on the wrists for me! So many things have happened this year, from unusually long bouts of painful crisis, to embarking on a new course of study. In the author sense, I've been kinda lazy in some respects, it others I've been working in overdrive. Either way I tend to be my greatest critic and to that end, even if I managed to write 10 books in one year, I'd still be moaning about not having achieved enough. Hmm, sad but true.

This year has been amazing in so many ways, but there have been times that painful crisis has tinted my rose coloured glasses a couple shades of grey. There have been times I have wanted to write something positive to keep myself on track, but I'd be lying if I said I never get those moments where I say, "To hell with it, it's not going to take away this damn pain is it?" Truth is, for how this year started out and continued to be filled with crisis, I began to wonder if a trend was developing. Is it that as I am getting older my health is going to simply deteriorate? I didn't ever voice this fear with any seriousness as I am a person who believes in the power of the mind, so I plod along and make like it's no biggie. I didn't want to manifest the possibility into my reality. And yet harbouring this fear hasn't stopped the pain either.

Right about now I'm in a place of remembering self and giving gratitude for it. Though I pretty much wrote a book on FEAR (False Evidence Appearing Real) and how it works, it doesn't mean I'm immune to it. Not by a long shot.

Part of remembering caused me to have a sudden urge to look up the Crazy Frog video. I loved it to bits when it first came out. It was to the point that everytime there was a new song or remix created around the concept, friends and family would say, "Have you seen/heard the new Crazy Frog...." blah blah... fill in the gap. I was never interested in the money making commercialization of it, only the original. Why? Because in it the Frog demonstrates faith in something that to the viewer doesn't exist. A motorbike or something of a similar nature. His faith is so strong he looks crazy as he makes sound effects for it whilst wearing a safety helmet in anticipation of it. Then something amazing happens. We see exhaust fumes bluster from behind him, he isn't surprised. We see his body raise of the floor, he is now sitting on it, he isn't surprised. He expected it and shouts "Weeee" as he disappears off the screen riding his bike. THAT is the power of the mind that we all have the ability to create with. With that, I am back on track, ready to focus on my creation of good health and massive book sales ;)

Faking The Funk

So I've finally admitted that I lost the two sequels to my book. Hmm now what? Well since then I have been acting like all is well, uploading movie clips and until last week, health permitting, I have kept up with the Nubian Scribes radio show as usual, but my heart hasn't been in it. I've been going through the motions, trying to carry on in the same manner I would advise anyone else in my situation to do. "Come on girl, you're not trying to tell me a lil pain is gonna stop you?", "I know you've lost a lot, but the books were more than just the words you wrote. Take your time and start again, it may even be better this time", "Heartbreak, ya frickin' sissy get the hell over it, no man is worth this many tears".

If you find yourself in a car crashed you are advised to not shy away from being behind the wheel, on the contrary, its best to jump right back into the drivers seat asap. Yup, I know the theory and based on that principle, I have tried hard to follow through with the practical. I've opened my manuscripts and written a couple of chapters, but writing to my book feels like an uphill climb. The next best thing is to write no matter what, even if it isn't words that contribute to my books, hence the attention I'm giving to my blog as of late. Last week I set myelf a few tasks as a way of jump-starting myself back into action and I'm happy to say I have made some progress for it. By the end of the week, my world fell to pieces once again and I felt like I was back to square one.

I got good peeps around me and they have been strong with words of encouragement, but there comes a time when I don't want to hear my own bullshit, so I stop talking about it. If I'm not strong enough sound like I'm not in pain, then next best thing is to not talk at all, hence the cancelling of the radio show. I didn't have the stamina to fake the funk for a straight hour. I've been faking for long enough as it is, and while it seems it would have gotten easier, it actually hasn't. I don't want to discuss the thousand differnt ways this is going to make me a better person, I already know this. I don't want to consider how many ways I can back up my work and prevent this from happening in the future, I've been a certified computer technician for 10+ years and an IT Tutor for 7. I don't need to hear how he's an ass and I'm worth so much more, come on, how many times have I consoled you through similar? It's partly because of all of the above that this is so maddening, because I KNOW THIS, and hearing myself talk nonsense is enough to make me wanna step outside myself so I can get better leverage to furnish my person a bitch slap.

Pick your gotdayum ass up and stop acting like a fricking wuss! I'm more or less used to my body being unruly, going off and surrendering to pain every once in a while, but when at the same time, my mind sees logic and fails to act on it, it's like I've entered my own personal Twilight Zone. I'm becoming a FB addict for heaven's sake, can it get any worse??? LOL Okay all is not lost, I still have my smile.

So here's the plan - Mourning is over, including the faking of the funk:

Being of the few who know the nutritional benefits of sci-fi, I intend to OD on it for the next couple of days, as well as get back to doing my meditation walks.
I need to get this 'fro braided already, so I can get to focusing on other stuff, such as my weekend away where massages are plentiful and room service is standard. I've written some notes for my books, I intend to follow through with another chapter (I wrote one already this week).

Geez, why am I here babbling, I got shit I need to do!

Author Tosin Coker in 5 Minutes

The 'to do' List

When shit hits the fan, it doesn't stop spinning. I think this recent hospital stay was the one I was best prepared for, if there can be such a thing. Since the last time, I took it upon myself to have an overnight back packed and ready with everything from my toothbrush to my Acer Aspire One netbook and cell phone charger. Being pre-packed didn't make things that much easier, but at least my stay would be a little more tolerable once the worst was over.

Being admitted as an emergency patient is always a traumatic sequence of events that no matter how many times I endure, just never seems to get any easier. When I'm at that point of having to call for an ambulance to take me in, so many things go through my mind, from 'NO NOT AGAIN!', to how bad a mother I am for once again having to leave my children to become the responsibility of other family members at such short notice. It's gotten to the point that I have to have a back pre-packed for them also. That's the best part. The worst is seeing the fear and sadness on their faces when I finally admit I cannot take anymore, I need to go to hospital. It's like a form of surrender, selling out to abnormal gene that dictates who runs this ship. During those times, I am not only beaten physically, but emotionally and mentally too. I hurt in ways that are never documented in medical text books.

When I come home, it is not because the pain is 100% gone, it is because there is not much else that can be done for me. I'm often still in pain, and now in need of a a serious detox to rid my body of all the residual traces of morphine and it's side effects. I can walk again unassisted, though not very far before my legs threaten to give way, or my vision blurs for how doped up I still feel, despite my last dose having been admitted over 24 hours prior. I physically feel like shit, emotionally I'm drained and at this point I'm tearful, wondering what the hell this is all about. Why am I here, I'm a waste of space, there is no point in trying if it all amounts to me arriving at this same place time and time again.

But the world doesn't stop turning, when I come home, though I'm barely sentient, my awareness is drawn to the fact that this bill arrived while I was away and has to be paid asap, and that form has to be filled in or one service or another will be cut off. At the same time all the people that wanted a piece of you before you went in are on tenderhooks hurrying you to get well, because they still need your help with heaven knows what.

All I want to do is curl in a ball and cry. I'm still in pain, can I have a moment to pull myself together please?

Phonecalls: 'why didn't you tell me you were in hospital?' Seriously, its nothing personal, but making an announcement that I'm not sure if I'm gonna make it through this time, really wasn't at the top of my list of things to do.

Emails: 'I've sent you 'zyx file' can you edit, format, upload etc for me by tomorrow please!' Google is your friend people, and guess what, the service is even more free than I am!

Children: 'What are we going to eat today?' OMFG the kitchen might as well be in New Dehli for how far it seems for me to get there. Oh what you want me to cook too?

Letters: 'We need your response yesterday!' Your lips, my arse! Take a fricking number.

By sheer grit and determination, I make it up to my room and once I'm there, I'm struggling to figure how to make my head stop spinning. I fall on the floor and decide I may as well use this opportunity to take my shoes off and then, in my delirium I shove them in the wastepaper basket. I take of my coat and tuck it into bed then wonder what's wrong with this picture. I finally get that the awful taste in my mouth is a warning I would do well to heed, except when I look at my prescription, I want to burst into tears as I wonder whether is it the white tablet or the pink one I'm supposed to take to counteract the need to hurl Exorcist style across my cold laminate flooring? Between the pain that has yet to cease, and envying my snug looking Rocawear coat, I'm trying to practice sounding 'okay' for the person who wont stop ringing the godayum phone.

The most gutting thing of all is knowing that this isn't my having an off day. This is my life as a person living with sickle cell. At times like this, all I can do is lock off for a couple of days, shed tears till I have no more, then pick myself up and get on with life, whilst in the back of my mind, secretly waiting for the punchline.

This is the aftermath of having being admitted to hospital for a severe pain episode that was beyond my ability to manage at home. Don't let even get started on what the pain is like.

Time To Write

It's been a while since I wrote my last blog, I've been too busy to organise my thoughts, let alone sit down to write. There are so many things I want to achieve that I tend to get upset at myself for not completing my ever growing 'to do' list. So what is it that I want to achieve exactly? Well, for a start I want to complete my trilogy. I'm about half way there, but in the meantime, there are other things that need to be done too.

When you decide to take the route of self-publishing, what isn't really made clear is how much effort is required to make your book not only visible, but accessible to the world. Sure you can upload your finished manuscript to Lulu or Creat Space and voila! Your book is made available to the world, but who aside from close friends and family knows it's there? You talk up a storm on your blogs or social networks, but after a while, the people in your cyber-circle would have heard it all and their ears would become immune to your sales pitch. With zero budget, what else can you do to draw attention to your baby?

For everything that could be possibly done on a shoestring budget, believe me, I've pretty much covered it... well almost, hence my 'to do' list remaining unfinished.

My creativity is one of my greatest assests, couple that with practicality and an affinity with computers and you've got a sister who cannot keep up with her own ideas. I got tonnes of software and a pentium n9ne cpu, but next to no RAM to keep everything running seemlessly. Top that off with sickle cell, and what you end up with is a whole lot of pissed off.

I want not only to help myself, I want to see those around me do well too. Often time that means I volunteer myself to give assistance within the scope of my abilities, but what happens is I end up having people wanting not only more than I offered to do, but more than I am able to give. Give an inch, take a mile, then wonder why I'm taking so long to recouperate from a sudden spell in hospital.

Today I am writing from my bed, three days after being discharged from hospital. The worst of my pain is over, but now I'm dealing with the full extent of what this downtime means. I have a lot of things I need to work out, like the order of importance for what needs my attention most. I have a lot of blogging to catch up on, so I guess now is a good a time as any to use this space to assist in my healing. Time to start writing again.

An Author With Sickle Cell

As an author I do alot of networking and from time to time I am invited to attend engagements where I might feature as a guest speaker. Whatever audience I may be addressing, more often than not, they are oblivious to my having sickle cell and quite possibly would know very little about it even if I was to disclose it. However on a few occasions my health issue has come up in one to one conversations with book lovers. And when it does, 9 times out of 10, the question that follows is, 'oh so your book is about sickle cell?' To which of course I respond, 'No!' What always gets me is the way the person comes over with a surprised look on their face.

So I explain to them, hey I'm a author with sickle cell not the other way around. As a person I have likes and dislikes and sickle cell doesn't rank high enough to fall into either category. Its just simply a fact of life for me. On the other hand, as an author

Each of my characters are facets of self through which I express my dreams, my ambitions, hopes, fears, contemplations and observations. I am a author of science fiction, who has sickle cell. Now if you really want to know what my book is about, find me on Youtube.com/TosinCoker and check out my video book trailers.