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The death of a celebrity is something that may or may not affect the general populace. Taste, attraction, and interest differ from person to person. It is why some people love Angelina Jolie and others hate her. It is why some people love George Clooney and others do not. It is why some watch comedy flicks and others gravitate to drama. We are human beings, and as such we are all different.

And yet, despite those differences, it seems the world could all agree that Robin Williams was a wonderful individual and a talent that we may never see again in our lifetimes.

The news of his death has had a profound effect on me. I have found myself bursting into tears at the most random moments as through the day I remember that he is no longer here. It is a grief that could be no more devastating if I knew him personally, and I think I'm not alone in feeling this way. I grew up with Robin Williams as a constant presence in my life, and for some strange reason, I always felt connected to him somehow, as if an invisible thread was tied from my consciousness to his. My heart hurts for the pain his family is going through, my head hurts with the accusations of cowardice being lobbed at him, and my soul hurts for all the generations who will gloss over the genius and the wonder of this kind-hearted, loving, generous man.Ìý

Robin Williams was more than his characters. He was more than his addictions. He was more than his depression. Robin Williams...

Ìý

...was my alien friend.

...was my favorite toy creator.

...granted my wishes.

...kept my spirits up on the radio.

...was my nanny.

...helped me grow up.

...helped teach me how to fly.

...was my mentor.

...taught me about acceptance.

...was my teacher.

...was my friend.

...will forever be missed.

Ìý

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O Captain! My Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning...

Ìý

Robin McLaurin Williams

July 21, 1951 � August 11, 2014

The death of a celebrity is something that may or may not affect the general populace. Taste, attraction, and interest differ from person to person. It is why some people love Angelina Jolie and others hate her. It is why some people love George Clooney and others do not. It is why some watch comedy flicks and others gravitate to drama. We are human beings, and as such we are all different.

And yet, despite those differences, it seems the world could all agree that Robin Williams was a wonderful individual and a talent that we may never see again in our lifetimes.

The news of his death has had a profound effect on me. I have found myself bursting into tears at the most random moments as through the day I remember that he is no longer here. It is a grief that could be no more devastating if I knew him personally, and I think I'm not alone in feeling this way. I grew up with Robin Williams as a constant presence in my life, and for some strange reason, I always felt connected to him somehow, as if an invisible thread was tied from my consciousness to his. My heart hurts for the pain his family is going through, my head hurts with the accusations of cowardice being lobbed at him, and my soul hurts for all the generations who will gloss over the genius and the wonder of this kind-hearted, loving, generous man.Ìý

Robin Williams was more than his characters. He was more than his addictions. He was more than his depression. Robin Williams...

Ìý

...was my alien friend.

...was my favorite toy creator.

...granted my wishes.

...kept my spirits up on the radio.

...was my nanny.

...helped me grow up.

...helped teach me how to fly.

...was my mentor.

...taught me about acceptance.

...was my teacher.

...was my friend.

...will forever be missed.

Ìý

O Captain! My Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning...

Ìý

Robin McLaurin Williams

July 21, 1951 � August 11, 2014

I know that it's been a while since I've put out a book, but just so you guys know that I HAVE been working, here's a sneak preview of Dark Need, the sequel to Dark Veil. Enjoy!

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Liam

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This is the way things work on our island: Trogs come. Trogs stay. Trogs leave.

We don’t make friends with them. We don’t hang out with them. We don’t share island stories with them. We let them eat, shop, sleep, swim, walk around. And when they leave, we follow them. Sometimes we do it because it’s fun to scare them. Most times, we do it because we’re hungry.

Trogs come in all sizes, shapes, colors, and we each have our preference.

My dad likes them short and round. He says their fat makes them taste better. Jameson, my best friend, liked the tall, leggy ones. He said they struggled more which made them sweeter. Brenda, my ex-girlfriend, had a taste for the young ones. Gran didn’t care as long as it was fresh.

And Audrey, my baby sister, stopped eating them the minute she came: Fallon.

I have to apologize to all of you. A big, fat, huge, gigantic, hugemongous, mountain-sized apology is owed to each and every single one of you.

I have been neglectful of the site for some time now, and it's no one's fault but my own. I've been busy, I've been stressed, I've been so preoccupied that my allegience to the people who've helped me along the way - you, my fans - has fallen to the wayside and there is no excuse for that. You guys deserve better. You guys deserve so much more than what I've given to you this past year. I apologize. I am truly, truly sorry.Ìý

I have been writing. I have. I've got WIPs of the sequels to Dark Veil, Damselfly, Sweet Silence, as well as standalones all right here in front of me. I've been doing my best to work on them when I can, or when I find the inspiration or motivation. But it's hard. I won't lie to you about that. Sometimes life gets in the way of doing the things we want to do because the things we need to do has priority, and even those are given an order of priority that takes away from the rest. I should have done more to make writing a top priority. I should have foreseen the troubles that were coming in my life, but I didn't, and I have no one else to blame but me, myself, and I. I won't go into detail on what those troubles were/are, because they are not important when it comes to my readers and the stories I owe you. You have kept me going, your dedication and love have been branded on me, and I promise that I will do better.

Things are getting better. I'm working through things and I'm figuring some things out. I've got outlines done and chapters done and slowly but surely, things are coming together. As always, you guys will be the first to know when books are complete.

I love you wonderful, thoughtful, caring readers. Your kind emails, your messages, and your comments prove to me just how blessed I am as not only a writer, but also as a person. Thank you. Thank you so very, very much.

Ìý

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It's been a while. I've been a really bad, bad blogger and I think before anything else, I need to tell you guys how sorry I am.Ìý

Sometimes life gets in the way of the things you need and/or want to do, and then things spiral out of control to the point where you don't know which way is up, and how you proceed out of the rabbit hole. I am currently sitting in the dark hole, trying to find my way out and my first step is to talk to you, tell you what's going on.

I've been busy - that much is obvious. My life is always busy, what with four mites and all, but these past couple of months have been crazy. After a long wait, we finally moved into our new home. It's been wonderful, hectic, lovely, insane, and just plain awesome. Add on to that the fact that my husband is overseas working and you've got a single mother of four trying to get a new house up to par while tackling these characters in my head who all demand my full attention.

So what does that all mean?Ìý

Well, for me it means too much and too little all at once. That spiral I told you about? It leads down. That rabbit hole? It's called depression.

Truth is, I've been depressed for a while. I know what it is, I know what it does, and I know how to help it. Up until my husband left, the depression was manageable without doing anything. Now, though, without that additional support in my work, my mites' lives and activities, and this home, I've fallen into a funk. It sucks. I drag myself out of bed to take them to school. I paint a smile on my face and keep myself busy with things that dont require me to think much: cooking, baking, building things. But at night, when I'm most inclined to write, my brain just quits and I feel my body just groan with emotional exhaustion.Ìý

I don't want to smile. I don't want to wake up at five in the morning. I don't want to bake cookies that I won't get to eat because my mites are like the seagulls in Finding Nemo.

I want to scream and cry, throw things, break stuff, possess Fred Durst's body and yell at his reflection for ruining "Behind Blue Eyes".

And I want to write.

I want to respond to the emails you all have been sending me.

I want to finish sending out all of those prizes and gifts that you all have been waiting so patiently for. But up until now, I just...couldn't.

So what's changed?Ìý

Well, nothing. I'm just tired of being tired, of being down, of being depressed. I've reached my own breaking point and instead of going further down the hole, I'm blowing it up. Boom, bitches!Ìý

So, first things first: I'm writing. I'm writing and I'm writing and I'm writing. What I'm writing isn't making much sense, but it's writing. I've got books to finish, books to start, stories to tell, characters to kill...or help fall in love. Fallon, Liv, Sophia are all waiting patiently in line for their turn. I've also got some new characters wanting to be introduced to the world; especially to you guys! Soon you'll met Claire, Celsia, and others. I hope you're excited!

But, what's an "Oops, I suck - let's make this better!" blog post without some good stuff coming your way besides just more stories?

How about a character naming contest?Ìý

What about an entire library of my books?

Kindle? Amazon and B&N gift cards?Ìý

All of these are coming and they're all for you!Ìý

So, let's start over.Ìý

Hi. I'm S.L. Naeole and I'm a writer. Let's be friends.

Ìý

It's been a while. I've been a really bad, bad blogger and I think before anything else, I need to tell you guys how sorry I am.Ìý

Sometimes life gets in the way of the things you need and/or want to do, and then things spiral out of control to the point where you don't know which way is up, and how you proceed out of the rabbit hole. I am currently sitting in the dark hole, trying to find my way out and my first step is to talk to you, tell you what's going on.

I've been busy - that much is obvious. My life is always busy, what with four mites and all, but these past couple of months have been crazy. After a long wait, we finally moved into our new home. It's been wonderful, hectic, lovely, insane, and just plain awesome. Add on to that the fact that my husband is overseas working and you've got a single mother of four trying to get a new house up to par while tackling these characters in my head who all demand my full attention.

So what does that all mean?Ìý

Well, for me it means too much and too little all at once. That spiral I told you about? It leads down. That rabbit hole? It's called depression.

Truth is, I've been depressed for a while. I know what it is, I know what it does, and I know how to help it. Up until my husband left, the depression was manageable without doing anything. Now, though, without that additional support in my work, my mites' lives and activities, and this home, I've fallen into a funk. It sucks. I drag myself out of bed to take them to school. I paint a smile on my face and keep myself busy with things that dont require me to think much: cooking, baking, building things. But at night, when I'm most inclined to write, my brain just quits and I feel my body just groan with emotional exhaustion.Ìý

I don't want to smile. I don't want to wake up at five in the morning. I don't want to bake cookies that I won't get to eat because my mites are like the seagulls in Finding Nemo.

I want to scream and cry, throw things, break stuff, possess Fred Durst's body and yell at his reflection for ruining "Behind Blue Eyes".

And I want to write.

I want to respond to the emails you all have been sending me.

I want to finish sending out all of those prizes and gifts that you all have been waiting so patiently for. But up until now, I just...couldn't.

So what's changed?Ìý

Well, nothing. I'm just tired of being tired, of being down, of being depressed. I've reached my own breaking point and instead of going further down the hole, I'm blowing it up. Boom, bitches!Ìý

So, first things first: I'm writing. I'm writing and I'm writing and I'm writing. What I'm writing isn't making much sense, but it's writing. I've got books to finish, books to start, stories to tell, characters to kill...or help fall in love. Fallon, Liv, Sophia are all waiting patiently in line for their turn. I've also got some new characters wanting to be introduced to the world; especially to you guys! Soon you'll met Claire, Celsia, and others. I hope you're excited!

But, what's an "Oops, I suck - let's make this better!" blog post without some good stuff coming your way besides just more stories?

How about a character naming contest?Ìý

What about an entire library of my books?

Kindle? Amazon and B&N gift cards?Ìý

All of these are coming and they're all for you!Ìý

So, let's start over.Ìý

Hi. I'm S.L. Naeole and I'm a writer. Let's be friends.

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Ìý

This is for Lila in Rhode Island who emailed me her suggestion for heartache and redemption as this weeks' Haiku Monday topic.
Ìý

Ìý

In time this too will

become just a memory

that you wll cry for

Ìý

I once knew a boy

who'd taken my innocence

and made me wicked

Ìý

I've given you me

In return you gave me pain

Now I give you hate

Ìý

My sorrow is not

a tool you can use for your

manipulation

Ìý

He was once my all

He was once my everything

Now I am much more

Ìý

I saw him walk by

My eyes sprung tears like faucets

I'm now over him

Ìý

Someone new is here

One who loves me completely

That someone is me

Ìý

This is for Lila in Rhode Island who emailed me her suggestion for heartache and redemption as this weeks' Haiku Monday topic.
Ìý

Ìý

In time this too will

become just a memory

that you wll cry for

Ìý

I once knew a boy

who'd taken my innocence

and made me wicked

Ìý

I've given you me

In return you gave me pain

Now I give you hate

Ìý

My sorrow is not

a tool you can use for your

manipulation

Ìý

He was once my all

He was once my everything

Now I am much more

Ìý

I saw him walk by

My eyes sprung tears like faucets

I'm now over him

Ìý

Someone new is here

One who loves me completely

That someone is me

[image error]

Ìý

It's that time. With the weekend approaching, I want you readers to comment with your topic of choice for Monday's Haikus. There are no restrictions so long as you keep the language withing semi-decent territory. Haikus are underappreciated and need more exposure so let's make this fun!

Ìý

It's that time. With the weekend approaching, I want you readers to comment with your topic of choice for Monday's Haikus. There are no restrictions so long as you keep the language withing semi-decent territory. Haikus are underappreciated and need more exposure so let's make this fun!