How Introverts Make Friends

 

Locky: I found this stick, can we bring it home?

I used to chuckle at this meme, thinking it was not true, I am capable of making friends!

How introverts make friends:

1. They don’t
2. An extrovert found them, liked them, and adopted them 

Then, a few days ago, I answered a question on X about stray dogs we befriended on the beach. I told someone I was happy I still had the chance to meet a stray who had been adopted by a kind-hearted person, and she asked me how. This stray, Molly, was adopted by a dog feeder who goes to the beach regularly, bringing Molly so I get to meet her and know she is doing well. When I recalled the story, I realized the above had happened to me. 

I like to stroll the beach with Locky, my dog. We meet many strays along the way. Each usually occupies a territory, so I meet them in their respective places and get to know them over time. We play with them, I give them treats, and I sit and walk with them (they love treats/food, but most of them crave companionship and stay with us until we go back). 

Over time, someone (human, in case clarification is needed!) initiated a conversation with me. I imagine it was not easy because I remember her smiling and waving several times from a distance when I just smiled back and moved along with my entourage, thinking it was just a passing, friendly gesture. One day, she was on my path and introduced herself. That was when I realized she also had a group of dogs. I found out she fed the dogs regularly, that was why she always stood in the same spot while trying to catch my attention. She noticed I had my way with dogs, so we bonded and shared stories and knowledge about the strays around. We became friends, and from her, I knew several others who care about the strays as well. There was no drama, no agenda, just people with similar passions. 

If you are curious about the stray situation, feel free to ask me. I know things can be different in different places, but before you feel judgmental, don’t feed strays, and don’t blablabla (it happens!). Please educate yourself about the situation first. I find it surprising that people are very quick to judge and ‘compare’ the situation with their ‘ideal’ ones. It only shows me how little they know and how close-minded they are. Every place is different. Every situation is different. 

Anyway, in a way, I looked back to my history and realized that I was adopted as a friend by many, and when I make my own, they are fellow introverts.

What is the moral of this post? Nothing! Maybe I’m just grateful for those who give me a chance.

I just want to keep in touch. I hope you are not bored with my ramblings.

Here is Molly!

 

BOOK REVIEW: GORY STORIES (JOEY WEBB)

 

This is an interesting short story collection. The tales are short and fast-paced. At times, I could see the endings and twists coming, others, not so much. They don’t always provide satisfying endings, and sometimes, they end abruptly, but for some reason, I don’t mind them. The stories feel classic from the way they are told and unfolded, which feels like narration. They never dwell too long on the characters and plots, and this works fine for short stories.

There are some typos, like missing punctuation and alphabets. I’m not sure if it’s because of the format since there are some limitations to the digital e-book, like the fixed fonts. I can’t change the size, and the contents are not linked/clickable. I’m reading this with Amazon Kindle apps since it’s not compatible with my Kindle, which is another question for the format.

Other than the technical hiccups, I enjoyed the stories. Some are not my cup of tea, but they’re easy to read and still provide some entertaining value. They are engaging, some are unintentionally funny, and there are snippets of real-life facts. My favorite story is Life Imitating Art.

If you enjoy a quick-paced, creative read without the need to feel attached to the characters, this is the book for you.

My One and Only Co-writer Circa 1995

Just a few days ago, I reached out to an old friend from high school. We haven’t been in contact privately for 30 years (gasp). It was only during COVID time we had a group Zoom call (it was a nightmare for me, and I had only done it once voluntarily) between several ‘close’ high school friends. Close as in, three decades ago. To be honest, I struggle to find similarities now because we all studied in different places, took up different majors, and grew up with different adult aspirations. The video call was awkward (to me, at least). Every question felt like interviews or strangers stuck in the same place trying to pass the time by asking basic but invasive questions.

I guess they all felt the same because no one suggested another Zoom call. Actually, maybe they do it regularly without including me, and I’m very fine with that! We also have a group chat, and again, it feels bizarre every time just to have birthday greetings, golf claps, standard replies, and small talk, and it dies down again. I skipped some birthday wishes because I couldn’t take the formality anymore, but they are very lovely people. I finally go along with it, say my wish, and get it over with. We never seem to go beyond the mandatory small talk and occasional jokes. I think the problem is too many parties in the group. Everyone would talk to everyone and ask generic questions because we don't want to alienate the others, so it’s hard to make actual connections after so long.

The one friend I reached out to privately was my best friend back then. We clicked well, we played together, and we were the only two who never used staircases to go down because we preferred to slide down through the railings (we still had to go up manually, dang gravity). Unfortunately, we grew apart during the significant phases of adult life and never caught up again except through the awkward group.

However, she holds a special place in my heart because she was my best friend and was and still is my one and only co-writer. Both of us developed a novelette together for fun. I wrote a part or a chapter, she continued, and we passed it back and forth without knowing what the other had in mind. Most times, we also had no idea about how to continue the story until we wrote it. It was handwritten, of course. It was 1994-1995.

The good thing about that time was that we didn’t have handphones, internet, or other entertainment that consumed time the way they do today. That was why we had a flock of fans, our schoolmates. We wrote that in the third year before we graduated. We were in different classes, so we could only exchange the story during recess time and took turns to bring it home. I still remember how the ‘book’ looked, a stack of torn (neatly) pages from books (with lines) stapled together. Many would read it during the day. Those schoolmates studying in the same class would pass it around and snuck it between textbooks to read them when the teachers faced the other way. It would get back to me or her so that we could continue the story.

We finished the novelette in a few months, with holiday and examination breaks. We ‘published’ it. Each fan got a copy, and I asked her to hold the original because she initiated the writing.

I can’t speak about other authors, to me, books are very personal. It sounds exaggerated and mushy, well yes, sometimes I feel like it’s like baring my soul, and I have to kill those who have read it. Don’t worry, I only feel this way for people who know me in real life. (I’d love for you to read my books. No harm will be done! Promise!) It took me years to tell a handful family and friends. Only after my latest book above did I reveal it to my two good friends, the current one who only knew I write but didn’t know my pen name or books, and the long-lost one mentioned above. How? With tremendous difficulty. I know I shouldn’t feel that way and make this more difficult than it should be, but I couldn’t help it.

After doing that, it feels liberating. I want them to like my books, of course, especially my one and only co-writer. We loved each other’s writing back then, so I hope the odd is in my favor. Whatever it is, I am at peace. I think I have done what I need to do. I have reached a point where I feel confident enough and have pulled the band-aid.

 

P.S. Locky is my current 'co-writer.' He always makes sure I get enough love and attention.

P.S.S. It's hard to type with a dog on the lap but not impossible.

My book A Scarred Drifter 

A heartfelt post-apocalyptic dystopian about human struggles in a world where almost everything has been replaced by automation. 100% human effort, with sweat, tears, and a tiny bit of blood.

I hope this is your cup of tea/coffee/beer/any beverage of your choosing.

If you pick up the book, thank you so much. It really means a lot and keeps me going. Again, a very special thank you to my beta readers.
And, of course, to you all, thank you always for being here.

Have I said too many thank you? NEVER!