I think perhaps that my first personal blog post since 2017 suggests I’ve had imposter issues for a long time. I’m attempting to gather up my courage for Camp NaNoWriMo in July, and have had the dickens of a time with my motivation, in part due to some recent revelations.

What got me to post this? A couple of FB posts from an old friend about racism in fiction and D&D. I was simply going to reply on his wall until I discovered I had written a novella.

So Ed, here is my reply to your posts.

My very first, unfinished novel (barely 50k words written for NaNoWriMo in 2005) started as a coming of age novel where I could work through some of my childhood issues, challenges to my self-esteem with both my social situation and complications with my family.  

Although set in a fictional fantasy world, the core of the novel was about bullying. Bullying because the MC’s father was a European-modeled outlander, hence the MC (living on an isolated fictional AAPI island) was treated horribly by most of the other islanders. This race of islanders were exclusively dark-skinned. His white father, and mixed-race brother, were both banished from the island (in the backstory), because of their skin tones. In the story, there were superstitions about outlanders, and because of the remoteness of the island, the very few outlanders had their own racist notions about native and were in their own ways cruel, modeled after our world. Think pirates and shipwreck survivors.

The MC’s brother, who is bisexual – relevant to the novel – in his youth tried to fit in and act straight, but he was despised for his speckled cheeks and flame-red hair. He was later banished for kissing a native girl, whom he honestly loved. I developed his character later, in another prequel-style novel (also unfinished), where after being ostracized and banished, was captured by pirates and sold into slavery by an Ottoman-style, extremely racist society. 

Also, magic exists in the world, and complicates everyone’s lives. 

These stories were originally inspired by my own experiences with bullies, ostracized as a kid for being fat, geeky and different from my peers. My imagination and writing creativity took over from there. 

Sure, there were some commonalities between myself and my characters (there always are with writers), but when I was working on the re-write for last November’s NaNo, I developed serious Imposter Syndrome. 

Who the hell am I to tell a story about a race that I am not part of, even if fictional? 

Did I write these stories because I am an unwitting, ignorant racist? 

The stories were about the struggle of non-inclusion and being mistreated for being different, and character choices: whether to just try to fit in and behave (as I did as a kid), or to stand up and find strength in one’s self, and a decent self-image. Also, I tried to capture how it feels to be bullied for being different, and that even though the MC has one friend who does not judge the color of his skin (a character who represents goodness of heart), the protagonist cannot filter out the bad emotions brought about by so many others – specifically the leadership of the community, who are written as over-the-top racists.

So, as much as I loved the characters and the story I had written, and as much as I wanted it to be a coming of age story with a ton of character growth (the MC was a teen), I abandoned both projects because I HAVE NO CLUE what it is like to be AAPI, or bisexual. I have never suffered anything like racism, only what I saw in the world around me and in historical context (and other fiction I consumed).

I consider myself a good person, and I hate to think of myself as racist, but after some serious thought and soul-searching, I am still stymied. I was raised in a family where one parent was racist and the other was genuinely kind and open-minded, showing me unconditional love. I always objected to the slurs and attitudes of the closed-minded parent, and sometimes even called them out for their behavior, which earned me more bullying and a few backhands to the face or belt strokes across my butt. 

Obviously, there is something about these issues that resonated with me and attracted me to write those storylines, but, since November, I have not written much. On ANY story. That Imposter Syndrome has sucked the life out of my imagination, and I am second-guessing everything, including my own identity. (Certainly Covid has not helped, keeping me isolated and fearful).

I have only discussed this (and then, only vaguely) with my therapist. Privately. I feel extremely vulnerable sharing this, publicly. 

Am I way off base here?

Am I allowed to write about horrible things, even if the specific things were not done to me? I’ve never been captured by pirates and sold into slavery. I’ve never been forced to choose whether to warn and protect the villagers who bullied me (and worse) that pirates have landed on the far side of the island, intent on capturing them all and selling them as slaves.

I feel I have no right to even consider these fit subjects for my Cis White self.

Objectively, I thought the MC’s dilemma would have been a great character moment and a compelling turning point for the plot of that first novel. 

But with all I hear these days about white privilege, and authors who “in their day” and “with their cultural background” were racist as fuck, yet still are time-honored for their literary prowess, I am intimidated to think I have any right to tackle such topics (not that I would ever claim to have their prowess – at best I am a hack writer who makes up stories because I loved being a Dungeon Master in D&D and I love writing about cheesy pirates).

Even as afraid as I am, I would value your ideas on this topic, so please <cringe> comment your thoughts on my dilemma. I need to get out of this rut, find my genital fortitude, and get back to one of the few things that brings me joy – writing.

PS: One small note: If I were simply writing for myself, this would be less intimidating. I could simply vomit cruddy words into the computer and delete them once I was finished. But, I believe I have talent, and I have things to say, even if they are not as deep as other novelists. I wish to someday publish and sell my stories. The fact that others, people better than myself, might pick up one of my stories and call me out as a racist hack (the hack part I am okay with) has paralyzed me. I fear being labeled, and these fears are what have put my knickers in a bind. I am a coward, I admit it. But am I also a racist coward? And if so, how can I fix or change that?

PSS: A wise person once told me, “You can’t get your panties in a bunch if you are not wearing panties.” Freeing myself from the constraints of fear and anxiety is the emotional equivalent of going commando, I think.


Who Am I


“We know what we are, but not what we may be.”
              – William Shakespeare

I ran across this blog post of mine from a defunct blog, written in January of 2013. Although more than four years have passed, the post is still valid. Some points of it were sad then, and are sad still. I was in a relationship then, and that is the major element of change in my life. I miss the relationship, though I no longer miss the individual. I also miss a certain autonomy. I am in some ways more independent now, since I am not in a day-to-day live-in relationship with a partner. Perhaps less so because I now live back in my childhood home with my father.

My health is worse by far. I am in much more pain, and my sleep has become even worse. My focus and concentration are poor, and like then, I am not writing much these days. As far as appealing the judgment on Disability, I was decline and have not yet reapplied. I now have documented medical records of my situation now that I didn’t have back then, including physical and mental issues (such as PTSD and depression). Now all I need to do is overcome my fear of reapplying and the feelings of shame that the last round gave me.

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Toy Soldiers

ThisHuman'sHeartThis Human’s Heart is a blog series where I share my thoughts and insights which may not reflect on my writing endeavors.

Image: Heart-Shaped Rock by speedyfearless on

On Being Defensive

“All defensiveness and emotional tumult is a fear response because of your need for acceptance and ruthless control of the territory of your safe fantasy world.”

– Bryant McGill, Simple Reminders: Inspiration for Living Your Best Life

A very dear friend, once she’d gotten to know me, described my resistance to change as having meticulously lined up a defense of toy soldiers, surrounding me to combat threats from all angles — perceived threats, that is. Usually, these threats came in the form of quite sensible advice given to me by my friends.
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Camp was fun

APRIL 29 ~ 18046 words


Hi friends!

Big Hand

So I got sidetracked this month. I was going to do a whole series of short stories based on the theme of Mojo Hand, Conjure Magic, Root Doctors and the like. I still want to write that. But unfortunately, I got sidetracked on a few other projects, such as starting two new blogs, one on Tumblr and one on WordPress.  Both are called World Wrighter, but they are now separate.

The World Wrighter Tumblr blog was going to be for writing and graphic art projects, but I decided to dedicate that one specifically to art and webcomic stuff.

I created another one just for my daily writing on WP, and so far I have been quite productive. I call it my World Wrighter Not-So-Daily-Writing blog. Sure, I’d love to write a story a day, but I know that is an unrealistic goal. But I am doing pretty well there. I am taking word prompts and creating an impromptu story that is influenced by the word or phrase. It is kinda fun, if I do say so myself. I am learning to write shorter, and I think my stories are rather cohesive for being written without much preparation. Check them out and let me know what you think. Follow WorldWrighterBlog if you want the latest updates. Leave comments. Writers love comments. It makes us feel like we are not writing in a void.

Thanks for reading!


All images and content copyright © 2011-2016 ~ Mark Adam Thomas

New Blog


I have a new blog over at Tumblr: #WorldWrighter. I’m not quite sure I need more than one blog, but I think there are things I’d like to share over there which are different than those over here. This one is centered around my novel writing and my writing life, and the Tumblr will focus on other writing, such as a webcomic I am working on, and also some daily writing prompts that I’d like to try (daily as in to fill in when I don’t have anything else to on my mind. Check it out. I’ve already posted a really stupid comic strip, and some notes on my webcomic plans.

Psst… My Weird West Fantasy Novel Red Rain is the project I’ve chosen for my first major webcomic. I’ve not yet decided if I will follow the story as I have it outlined, or change it up a bit (or perhaps keep the characters and write a new plot). I won’t be able to start on the artwork for it until I have saved up enough money for a new tablet and the cool graphics app that the pros use. Otherwise, I will be doing it by hand, the way I learned to do oh… twenty-five or more years ago. There are more details over there, click here and go there!

Thanks a ton for your interest. I hope to be doing much more in the upcoming months.


April 1 Camp NaNoWriMo

APRIL 1 ~ 406 words


Hi friends!

Big Hand

I’m getting into the swing of Camp NaNoWriMo. April will be a great month, and I believe I have finally dredged myself out of my funky gloom. This month, I will be posting here when I can, with updates on my writing progress as well as excerpts from my project: Mojo Hand, and Other Tales.

Below is the synopsis for the project taken from my Novel Info page. Go check it out.



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Red Rain (working title) – Chapter One (part 1)

Hi friends!

Red Rain (working title)

NaNoWriMo is finally here. I’ve got a sample chapter snippet for you.

Below is the official first draft of the first 1000 words or so of the first chapter in my new weird western fantasy story (with steampunk elements and fantastic gizmos, creatures, and other cool-factor elements that I could come up with). This new chapter is quite different from the chapter I posted as prewriting during exploration of my world. Let me know what you think.



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This Human’s Heart: Gratitude


This Human’s Heart is a blog series where I share my thoughts and insights which may not reflect on my writing endeavors.

Image: Heart-Shaped Rock by speedyfearless on


As you know, I’ve been trying to keep positive about life. I think my efforts are working.

The other day, I had a revelation of sorts. Right now, I am at one of the lowest points in my life that I’ve ever been. My health keeps me from working. I am completely broke, don’t have a car, live with my father, am single again with no prospects and few chances (due to all my circumstances). I am lonely and depressed, and there is little I can do to alleviate it, and almost nothing I can do to escape. Methods of escape usually cost money. Dating costs money. Being social usually costs money. And here I am, on food stamps, broke as hell, and you know what? I am very grateful for the things I DO have.

I have a roof over my head. I have a computer with which to be productive (and escape). I have talent and the wherewithal to be my creative self. I’ve been writing up a storm for months now (even when I was distracted by a pretty girl online). I keep up with my meds and my insulin (mostly), and I am doing my utmost to better my situation.

So all in all, other than the loneliness and depression (both of which I manage), I’m pretty happy. That is a first in my life. Being LOW but not feeling defeated.

The one thing I did not mention above is you. I am most blessed for having wonderful friends, and a great group of fans out there. I’ve gotten emails and instant messages from many of you with words of encouragement and support. I even received a letter in the mail this week from a very good friend. He sent me a check, just to help me out a bit. I feel like I have a sponsor. That was so cool.

So THANK YOU, my friends. THANK YOU for helping me remember that I am not alone, no matter how lonely things get. I hope to hear from you all very soon. Please feel free to email me, or write me, or message me on FB or SL or wherever. I am blessed, and I hope your holiday is blessed as well.

“Sometimes life knocks you on your ass… get up, get up, get up!!! Happiness is not the absence of problems, it’s the ability to deal with them.”

      ―  Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and    

                            Being Free 

All images and content copyright © 2011-2014 ~ Mark Adam Thomas

This Human’s Heart: Tilting at Windmills


This Human’s Heart is a blog series where I share my thoughts and insights which may not reflect on my writing endeavors.

Image: Heart-Shaped Rock by speedyfearless on

Tilting at Windmills

I’ve done some soul searching this month (more than usual), in part due to my new long-distance relationship. I’m trying to improve my communication skills, and in order to overcome some personal obstacles, self-examination was in order.  I am sharing this with you in part because I know some of you care about me, and what is going on in my life. But another part is for me. I am making certain commitments, and doing it publicly. This is a measure of accountability for myself, and I hope you all understand. Please feel free leave a comment below, or email me privately. Thanks.

QuixoteJust then they came in sight of thirty or forty windmills that rise from that plain. And no so
oner did Don Quixote see them that he said to his squire, “Fortune is guiding our affairs better than we ourselves could have wished. Do you see over yonder, friend Sancho, thirty or forty hulking giants? I intend to do battle with them and slay them. With their spoils we shall begin to be rich for this is a righteous war and the removal of so foul a brood from off the face of the earth is a service God will bless.”

“What giants?” asked Sancho Panza.

“Those you see over there,” replied his master, “with their long arms. Some of them have arms well nigh two leagues in length.”

“Take care, sir,” cried Sancho. “Those over there are not giants but windmills. Those things that seem to be their arms are sails which, when they are whirled around by the wind, turn the millstone.”

—Part 1, Chapter VIII. Of the valourous Don Quixote’s success in the dreadful and never before imagined Adventure of the Windmills, with other events worthy of happy record.

     As you may have deduced, I am on a quest. I’ve been on this crusade for a number of years. To my mind, my quest is a noble, romantic and chivalrous endeavor, not unlike that of Cervantes’ Don Quixote. According to Professor Ilan Stavans, “One must live life in a genuine way, passionately, in spite of what other people think. That is the central tenet of “Don Quixote.””

    But like that old and deluded Spanish hidalgo, my ideals often exceed my reach. Throughout my life, I’ve constructed my own giants out of would-be windmills—outdated belief systems that were created to protect a younger, more innocent Mark. And over the years I have clung to those ideas and beliefs, regarding them as hard truths when, in fact, they are as imaginary as Don Quixote’s giants. I’ve been a victim to them. Thank goodness I have a patient and loving woman in my life to act as my Sancho Panza, as it were, standing by my side and helping me to see my worth and my truths despite my stubborn tenacity to cling to my stubborn giants.

   Thankfully, along the course of my personal journey to better myself, I’ve already uncovered many things about myself regarding my mental and emotional make-up, and I’ve even implemented new ways of becoming a better person. Among the changes, I am learning to shed some of those old beliefs and live my life with hope in my heart, to dare to walk with confidence in fervent pursuit of my passions and goals, and to be my most genuine self.

  Dragged imageAnd as part of this journey, I’ve been digging deeper, and my soul-excavations have unearthed many long-buried remains of my emotional defenses. Okay, perhaps I’ve known about this stuff for years and have refused to deal with it—or have acknowledged it, and thought I’d dealt with it in the past. Hmm… zombie windmill giants? Lifelong habits I’d denied to recognize again and again, back to claw at me?

     The fact is, I have been stuck. I’m still stuck. And I will continue to be stuck.

     But that is okay. Just like in the Twelve Steps in Alcoholics Anonymous, admitting you have a problem is the first step to overcoming it. See, I’ve fallen into many patterns in my life, systems that might have worked once but which don’t serve me now. In fact, they get in my way more than they are helpful, as I’ve discovered while working on my new relationship.

   Among them are:

  • I have some long-held, deep-seated fears: Of success. Of failure. Of rejection. Many of my self-image concepts, actions and reactions are borne from these basic fears and core beliefs about my worth, and myself in general.
  • I tenaciously hold onto these limiting beliefs which keeps me stuck.
  • I confuse commitments with interests. In many ways, what I thought were commitments to myself were in reality only things of interest for me. The difference is: an interest is pursued only when it is convenient. A commitment followed through, no matter what it takes to make the goal a reality (as long as it’s ethical and moral).
  • I’ve been using excuses and beliefs to allow myself to feel I am a victim, and to rationalize all the reasons I can’t do the things I want and to be the person I desire to be (or have the things I crave in life).
  • I defend my excuses to the point of annoyance. A dear friend called this “lining up my soldiers,” where I would easily (almost casually) list off all the reasons I was unable to do a certain thing, defending my choices and excuses like they were a shield wall protecting my sanity, or honor, or whatever. “Yes, you are right, but…” has become a far too frequent phrase in my life. Yes, I should write more, but I haven’t been sleeping well. Yes, I need to watch my blood sugar, but it is hard when I am not resting well and have no regular sleep cycle (this gem of an excuse is my win-all go-to justification for many of my failures).
  • I can argue a good case against pretty much any action, and talk myself out of anything. I’ve been in the habit of avoiding playing big and being fabulous. Damn, being smart isn’t useful here. I need to stop playing the blame game.
  • One of my worst habits has been to reject myself before others could do so. If I don’t ask the girl out, she can’t turn me down. If I don’t submit my story, they can’t tell me it sucks. You get the idea. But the worst habit I’ve fallen into is to verbally (or mentally) abuse myself. I call myself stupid, so other’s won’t. I refer to myself as a loser, to take the wind out of an opponent’s sails. This behavior is not only damaging to myself, but it undermines my relationships with others. And in truth, I AM a great guy, with a brilliant mind and I have talent in many areas. I just have a hard time admitting it. I was raised that pride and hubris are bad. But in reality, it is how one shows the pride that matters. I would never put other’s down because I was proud of my accomplishments. I would never lord it over someone. It is all a matter of balance. And respect.

“Rationalization is a process of not perceiving reality, but of attempting to make reality fit one’s emotions.”

           ― Ayn Rand, Philosophy: Who Needs It? 

All images and content copyright © 2011-2014 ~ Mark Adam Thomas

This Human’s Heart: Self-Doubt and Optimism


This Human’s Heart is a blog series where I share my thoughts and insights which may not reflect on my writing endeavors.

Image: Heart-Shaped Rock by speedyfearless on

Self-Doubt and Optimism

     As you may know, many writers suffer from a neurotic lack of self-confidence. I am one such writer. Now that my book can actually be read by others, it can also be critiqued (the whole reason behind beta readers). But, it may also be judged, lampooned, ridiculed, and/or discredited. And worse, I as its author have the opportunity to dive into a pit of self-derision and worry that my work won’t stand for itself, that it is awful at best and wouldn’t be worth using as so much electronic toilet paper (although one of my readers printed out the manuscript, claiming he is a Luddite). So I guess he could use it for TP, if it were that bad.

     I know I beat myself up worse than is really neccessary to maintain an air of humility, but between my bouts with depression and anxiety, it can be easy to fall back into that pit. And the fact that I have written very little in the 20 or so days since I sent the MS out does not add to my confidence. I have proven to myself time and again that I am happiest when writing regularly. But I have allowed myself to become distracted by a number of other projects, one of which is a new long-distance relationship. And of course, no matter how lovely and fun my new friend is, I am still neglecting my daily writing, hence beating myself up, hence less inspired to write. The fact that I doubt my work will ever produce an income is also foremost on my list of stressors. I need to break this starving artist lifestyle I have, and being an unemployed writer isn’t the most attractive part of my life, and doesn’t exactly paint me as a fantastic catch. But I digress.

     The point is this: I can certainly fret over all of my limitations, flaws and worries. If I look, I can clearly see proof positive all my failures and foibles. Close scrutiny will show that I am seriously lacking in a wide number of areas. But I can also choose to focus on the positive areas of my life. Not that I am ignoring all those insufficiencies, but rather spending my limited energies on realizing what is GOOD about me, and what is GOOD about my life.

     We all have flaws. We all have made mistakes in our past, some huge and terrible. But giving those things center stage only serves to reinforce them, to shine the spotlight on the imperfections and weak spots. Better to give my mind over to recognizing my strenghts and my accomplishments. If there is something in my life that needs changing, better to focus on implementing the change and looking forward to reaping the rewards of my efforts rather than flogging  my psyche, endlessly berating myself for having the bad luck, poor decision-making skills or whatnot. I’ve recognized how fruitless it is to beat myself up, and that my own defense mechanisms have, since childhood, been to beat myself up first—in front of those I fear will judge me poorly or harshly. That bad logic told me that if I beat myself up, and made an honest show of it, that others wouldn’t have the heart to do it themselves. Yeah… that works.

     I’ve done a fair job of positive thinking with many aspects of my life, yet it is a constant struggle. I know I am not alone. And no matter how bad I think my life might be, I meet plenty of folks who have it much worse. Much by miles. I am grateful for so much in my life, and the fact that I have had the persistence to finish this novel, and start right up planning the next one, gives me a warm confidence that I rarely feel. I don’t think it is mere coincidence that the week I finished my novel and sent it out, that I met a lovely woman in Second Life who was attracted to me. My confidence and positive feelings made me more attractive, and more successful. Proof positive that optimism works wonders, and that I have the choice under which light to examine myself.

    I recently read an article on Optimism and the Power of Positive Thinking, which I have linked here. This helped me put things into better perspective. The following are positive characteristics that optomists share (and I hope to adopt these principles into my daily life):

  • They think about, reflect on, and emphasize the good things in life.
  • They are grateful and thankful for all their blessings.
  • They don’t complain when something bad happens.
  • They feel that nothing can hold them back from achieving success and reaching their goals.
  • They believe in abundance.
  • They are confident that the world offers plenty of opportunities for everyone to succeed.

Thank you all for your interest in my writing, and also in me as a writer and a person. I love that I have a following, and I know many of you truly care about my well being. So many of you have told me that you’d get in line to buy my book, and that makes me very happy. I know that my style of writing isn’t for everyone, but I hope you will enjoy it when you finally get a chance to read it.

“Life is like a prism. What you see depends on how you turn the glass.”

           ― Jonathan Kellerman 

All images and content copyright © 2011-2014 ~ Mark Adam Thomas