First and foremost, it is never anyone's business why somebody decides to consume or not consume anything, whether it be food, alcohol or other recreational substances. Nobody has questioned me on this topic recently. However, I started thinking about the who, what, where, when, why and how and decided to offer some context. My grandfather, Vincent Scala Sr., was always kind and loving towards me. He was a lively individual who enjoyed his Yankees, his horse racing and trips to Atlantic City. He also enjoyed his alcohol. By all accounts, he enjoyed it too much. I don't know what made him tick. I wasn't around for 95% of the bad times. Towards the end of his life, all of his major organs started failing. His four children (and my grandmother, by then his ex-wife) took turns caring for a belligerent, mean bastard that was once my kind, fun-loving grandfather. Finally, my father took him in. There he stayed until his life ended in 1998. When I started noticing changes in my b
Until a few minutes ago, I couldn't decide which project to work on tonight. As I sat here with the ESPN bowl games acting as background noise, I wondered ' Do I work on the continuation of my Core Memories sexy romance series? ' (Yes, I can say the word sexy here. It's my blog. I'm not going to ban myself). ' Do I revisit my full-length work-in-progress that feels empty to me? ' Don't get me wrong. The latter is going to be a wonderful story once I decide to continue writing it. I just don't feel comfortable penning a straight fiction novel right now, even though one of my dear friends insists (and I'm paraphrasing here) "There's something uniquely special about a Brian Scala book." I can't shake this feeling that it needs to be something more than what it is. Romance, Horror, Suspense, maybe all of the above. I need a niche. People want horror or romance, or both. That's partially why I decided to dive into the romance th
I'm not going to lie. I forgot I had this blog. I'm not even sure if people still blog. Well, I'm going to do so, because I need to. Twitter is too toxic for me. Don't get me wrong. I've met some great people through the bird app. They are the only reason why I still have it. I've recently realized how dangerous it is for my mental health (and, for that matter, my relationships with my friends) to tweet a spur-of-the-moment missive and wait for three random people to like it and nobody to comment. It's designed to make you beg for validation that will never come. It's a drug and we know what happens when you become addicted to drugs. You crave it more and more until you become overbearing and self- loathing. It only gets worse from there. Maybe this blog is the rehab I need. I used to write a lot. In fact, for those of you whom I've recently met, I wrote a book. Yes, a real book. It's available on Amazon and everything. It totally sucks. No self
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