Category Archives: Fake It

Life Happened…

I wrote this in December of 2015, right after I finished my Associate of Arts degree, and never published it. I’m not sure why. I happens. I guess that’s why.


Life happened.

I have been told that it has a tendency to do that.

But, while I put most of my life on hold to work toward finishing my A.A. degree, life continued as if I didn’t matter.

Can you fathom? Seems a bit unfair, doesn’t it?

In the last 6 months, while I set aside my creative writing and some of the flash challenges I normally partook… partaked.. partooken? Ehh, whatever… I took part in (yeah, that works), pushed aside my gaming addiction for homework, and forsook (I got that one right… I think) my personal relationships to attend class, 6 months passed by. I know, I said 6 months at the beginning of the sentence and it seems redundant, but my point is that 6 months just zipped on by and I wasn’t a part of a lot of it.

Quite frankly, that kind of irritates me.

And now, at the end of those 6 months, I have my Associates of Arts degree (emphasis on English, of course) and I am on winter break before I dive back into school to start working on my Bachelor’s degree. But there is this void in my life. I got so use to the business of school, the constant deadlines, the homework and papers that needed to be done, the readings that need to be.. um, read, and the always present looming threat of failing a class, that now, in the calm and afterglow of it all, I can’t seem to relax.

The best way to describe it would be like running off a… you know what.. better yet, let me just show you what it feels like…

Yeah, that’s about right.

My life has been on hold while streaking forward at an incredibly increasing pace. Sounds a bit impossible, but because of my schooling schedule, I have placed a lot of what I would normally be doing on the side.

My Xbox cries to me some nights, begging me to play a game. My DVR is starting to threaten me with erasing some of the shows that I have let sit idle and unwatched for too long. Hulu is even chiming in with some of the shows that I loved to watch starting to disappear from the cue (because apparently, you have to keep up with the current episodes or miss out… ).

On top of that, anything even remotely writing oriented has been relegated to the simmer spot on the back burner.

And now that all my schooling is over (at least for this semester), the walls I have erected to keep all that stuff away have dropped, and everything is clamoring for my attention.

All at once.

A few days ago, while having a conversation with a blogging community friend, her comment to my dilemma made me put my situation into the following thoughts:

It is very akin to being in a bucket and the floodgates open up, you struggle to stop all the water coming in, frantic because the onslaught is overtaking you, putting your hands here and there to stem the flow, feeling the water rising, your heart rate quickening, just trying to find a foothold in order to at least stand a chance.

All the while, because of the panic and the self-inflicted need to accomplish stuff… let me say that again… stuff… you fail to recognize that if you just take a deep breath and go with the flow, most of that stuff will take care of itself.

Life is funny that way.

But the trick is, not to let the inflow of stuff kick off the anxiety of failure. That will just kill you. And I would love to tell you I have learned this trick, but truth be told, I am constantly having to go back and relearn it every few months. I think they call that… life.


P.S. (from today in 2018… ) I still have this issue. That’s a hard trick to learn.

I’m Scared to Death…

I’m scared to death to write. Ok, that might be a bit of an over exaggeration, but the truth of the matter is, sitting down to my computer and putting words on the page has me almost petrified.

I’m not talking about this kind of writing. This is just free flow from my brain, and I really don’t care so much about what hits the page. I’m talking about my stories, my book ideas, those things that haunt me in the middle of the day and taunt me with the voices that tell me:

“You’re not good enough.”

“You really think you can finish a book?”

“Who do you think you are, Stephen King?”

All the voices I grew up with tearing me down from the inside. I know I am not alone in this dilemma, but it feels very lonely when I look through the notes I have spent time on, developing a storyline, putting effort into making characters real, and believing more strongly in that voice from my past that says they will never live than to the characters that yearn to be heard.

I use the atypical excuses… not enough time, too distracted, no inspiration, I’ll do it tomorrow… all just an appeasement to myself that I am using to try and┬áhide from the fact that I actually might write something someone won’t like.

But, really, what if they don’t like what I spent the time and effort into developing?

Does that even matter?

There are so many arguments out there that say “Write to write” or “Write what the audience wants” or “Just write.” Is there a wrong way with all those writes?

Daunting, frustrating, deflating.

Seriously though.

Am I good enough?

The World Moves On

The world is in motion.

It never seems to sit still for very long.

When I do happen to find a spot to stop, there is always this dreaded looming fear that stuff is happening and I am not part of it.

Missing out.

Life passing by as I breath.

Is it life?

Or is it just a fantasy of life.

An illusion.

The lie that I buy into because there is somewhere else I need to get too, something else I need to accomplish.


At its basest point, it does boil down to this internal, infernal need.

As if by not fulfilling that primal lust I will be left empty.

Stressed if I do, stressed if I don’t.

Caught in between the waning and the wont.

Pulled to rest, pulled to go.

Life is short, scream YOLO.

Such a lie that that is, bought and sold on the unfulfilled promises that there is something more out there that you just have to discover.

To be fulfilled, you have to find it.




The voices rise in a cacophony tumultuous tense, more phony then tense.

And me.


In the middle.

the World in Motion from JASON VALENTINE on Vimeo.


Fake it…

About a week ago, I saw the movie “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty“, and although it isn’t the short story I know and love, I found the movie to be phenomenal. One of the first movies in a long time that I wouldn’t mind owning. The music, the scenery, the style, the story. I just enjoyed watching it.
And then, just a few days ago, I was watching a TED video by Amy Cuddy about body language. In that video, she used the phrase “Fake it till you make it”, a phrase that I am sure most of us have heard before and some of us have even attempted.
Really, she does a better job of explaining it then I do, plus, her story is incredibly heroic and inspiring, so instead of me telling you, go take 21 minutes and watch what she has to say..
I’ll wait for you to get back.
Like, right?!
As I was writing the original post for this blog today, it occurred to me… “Isn’t that what Walter Mitty did?” He faked it til he became it. #Epiphany. #Mind Blown. (Did I just seriously hash-tag my own blog??)
Walter Mitty and Amy Cuddy showed me something a bit about myself. That is that I have always dreamed about being something, but I’ve never really taken the steps to achieve those dreams. Not really really. I’ve been faking it but never really moving, just sitting in one place. Finding one reason or another to let those slip by. A lot like Walter’s day dreams.
Movement was missing. So I have decided for the time being, I’m going to fake it till I become it by moving forward, smiling more, focusing on those few things that I can do and take care of, and letting the rest just, well… letting the rest just be whatever it is going to be.
Because, isn’t that really what Walter Mitty did?
And with that, I will leave you with a song that has become kind of my anthem recently. If you need me, I’ll be looking for Negative 25.